Six Crows
by BoMonster
Summary: Two dudes, one bed, and a crap ton of monsters that aren't that bad. (Basically)
1. Chapter One, Prologue

The yips and howls of dogs echoed through the dimly lit alley ways and streets of a dampened New York City, Manhattan if you want to get into specifics. The sound bounced off every wall and followed the dogs as a mist. It sounded of twenty dogs when there were merely six speeding down a particularly dark alley lit only by the light of the full moon which, even then, was periodically covered by grey clouds from the day's rain. The dark was no problem for them, but the rain on the other hand...

The rain was a problem.

They kept losing the scent of the thing they were tracking because of the rain. The rain always muddles everything, but even if it did, it was still the beginning and end of everything. The dogs slowed as the reached the end of the alley and came to the sidewalk of a more or less deserted street. Few cars could be seen driving upon the road while most of the lights in the apartments were out, save for a few.

A black lab, the leader of the group, directed a small 'woof' towards a slightly larger dog before trotting off towards another alley with his nose to the ground and two other dogs at his heels. This left the larger canine, a Spanish bulldog, with his own two dogs, and he made his way across the street with them, nose also to the ground.

The rain began to go fall harder from the sky. It wasn't quite pouring, but still enough so that instead of their paws being muddy and the outer fur of their coats damp, the rain began to soak through to their skin. Any hope that they had of staying warm that night was thrown out the window once it began to rain harder. One of the dogs in the bulldog's group, a German Shepherd Husky mix by the looks, shook out his fur in a futile attempt to remove the moisture from his brown, black, and cream-colored coat. He sent a whimper to the leader of the group, though it only gained him a growl. The bulldog returned sniffing the ground even though he knew the scent was gone.

When they reached the end of the alleyway, the bulldog let out a howl to alert the other group that they hadn't found anything. The rain pelted down harder and was now at the point of pouring. The Shepherd mix shook his fur out again before sending another whimper towards the leader which earned him a snap and a stern glare. The leader's drenched fur stood on end over his back as he proceeded past the Shepherd mix. The bulldog's ears we're flat against his head as he trotted past the him, a growl in his throat and not another glance spared for the Shepherd mix. The third canine in the group gave the other a sad, sidelong glance as he followed the bulldog. A howl came from the leader of the other group through the rain, and the band of three trotted back towards the others, tension still high between the bulldog and the mix, irked by the rain and their impractical searching.

They exited the alley the way they had entered, and the leader sent a bark towards the other group which was waiting for them underneath a lamp-post, the light illuminating the now torrential downpour that was drowning the city.

The lab that had instructed the bulldog to break away into a smaller group shook his large, heavy head to try to at least relieve it of some of the rainwater. As the other dogs had found, they were going to be soaked for a while. The mix let out what could have been a dog sigh. Really, it was a blowing of air from his mouth and another fruitless attempt to rid his fur of the rainwater. The bulldog noticed immediately and sent a growl in his general direction. If dogs could glare, these two were definitely doing it.

The bulldog woofed to the two others in his party, and continued out into the street, glancing both ways as to make sure no cars were coming as he crossed. He made it to the other side and met up with the other group. The leader of the other group, the large salt and pepper dog, sent a bark to the two dogs on the other side of the street, alerting them that it was time for another to cross. They had been having problems with cars narrowly missing dogs when the rain was pouring as it was now, so they had collectively decided to cross one at a time to make sure no one got hit. They had made the decision at a meeting a few weeks ago.

The mix placed a paw into the street, careful not to step into the gutter that was nearly a river with the amount of water that was cascading through it. He glanced up at the group across the street and made eye-contact with the bulldog. The bulldog's ears were again flat against the back of his head and his lip pulled up in a menacing snarl. The mix retracted his paw from the street and looked to the only other canine that was on the same side of the street as him. The other dog looked at the ground before crossing the street safely.

Only the mix was left. He knew that once he had crossed the street, they would call it a night and head back to the compound where they could dry off and get some warm food. He heard the woof that signified that it would be safe for him to cross, and he set foot into the street.

He had made it halfway across when they heard the sound of a car rounding the corner. The leader of the other group let out a louder bark, and the mix was soon sprinting across the street as the others took off down the street, away from the car. The dog that had been crossing the street was a ways behind, but he took the liberty to look behind him to see the van of an animal control worker have one of its doors thrown open so that a human to could jump out into the rain and onto the slick concrete. He knew he was it deep trouble now, but he could still had a chance of escape if he could run faster than the human.

His head snapped back to look forward to find that the group he hadn't been too far behind was gone. His crystal blue eyes widened a bit and his pace slowed slightly, desperately trying to make out which way they had gone, but the rain washed away any scent that they had left in that short amount of time. The sound of a human thundering through some of the small puddles that littered the sidewalk pulled him out of his state of shock, and the dog knew he couldn't afford to slow his pace. He would just have to wing it. Run and hope he didn't get caught.

He skidded dangerously around a corner into an alley, his claws barely gaining traction on the water-slick concrete. One of the street lights of the alley was out while another was flickering on and off, but the most noticeable part was probably the fact that it was a dead-end.


	2. Chapter One, Part One

The room was silent as the blonde sat on a stool at the kitchen island in the center of his pristine kitchen. The lights above the island were brightly lit while the rest of the room's lights were slightly dimmed, though not by much. The walls were a deep maroon red, the cabinets an extremely dark brown, and the counter-tops a gray, smooth marble. It was a windowless room with a modern air to it.

Screws, pieces of silver-colored metal, and assorted tools were spread out across the island. The blonde was hunched over, fiddling with what seemed to be a glove with pieces of the silver-colored metal attached to it. He wore a pair of magnifying goggles on his face as he screwed another piece to the finger-less, leather glove.

His phone rang, vibrating loudly against the marble of the island (mostly because it had no case). The blonde made a mental note that he should get a case for the phone as he set down his tools and the glove before pushing the goggles to the top of his head, his unruly, curly-ish hair falling over his forehead. Running a hand through his bangs, he reached across the island and grabbed the phone so that he could look at the caller ID and decide if he wanted to answer it.

It was a caller ID that he didn't recognize.

His brows pulled together slightly, if at all, as he swiped across the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Who's this?" He asked as he stretched in the stool before standing to turn the dimmed lights of the kitchen up.

"It's, uh," the voice of a younger sounding boy crackled through the line as the blonde listened, venturing back to the isle he had been previously sat at after he had turned the rest of the lights of the kitchen to their regular setting.

"My name's Elliot, sir. I was on last night's capture assignment in the Lower East Side."

"That's nice for me to know," the blonde stated with a bored tone as he spun around on one of the stools of the island.

"I was wondering if it was in the report that one of our team members got caught." The blonde stopped spinning.

"No, that wasn't in the report." The blonde stated in a humorless voice.

"Oh..."

"Did you write the report?" The blonde questioned sternly over the phone.

"No!" The younger boy blurted out over the phone as soon as the question was asked. He couldn't have been more than eighteen years of age. The boy cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "No, sir, it was the second in command of our outing who wrote it I believe."

The blonde let out a hum. He at all wasn't happy to find this out. It had been such a quiet Monday for him, though it was a little too quiet since his 'secretary' (more just company so he didn't get bored) had not showed up. "Do you by chance know the name of the team member who got captured?"

"Vincent Torum... Toris maybe? I had seen him around the compound before but I had never talked to him."

"Vincent Torvus?" The blonde asked while standing to make his way to the coat closet to grab a coat and a few other assorted items.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Right, well thank you for the tip. I've got an idiot to demote," the blonde said quickly before ending the call. 'So that's why he didn't show up.' An exasperated sigh left his lips as he searched through his contacts for the number of the second-in-command who had every so delightfully decided to leave out the fact that they lost a team member.

He held the phone to his ear, ringing two times before a click sounded, alerting him that somebody had picked up.

"Who's there?" a gruff, surly voice asked from the other side of the line.

"Your boss." The call was silent for a breath.

"Somet'n wrong?" the gruff voice asked slowly.

"Have you seen Vincent, Sean?" His voice was heavy with a passive-aggressive tone.

The blonde heard an almost inaudible gulp across the line. "I'm not sure wh't your talkin' 'bout, Elijah."

"Really, because I just got a call from a kid named Elliot who was on last night's Lower East Side assignment with you, and he said that a team member by the name of Vincent Torvus was caught last night." The line was silent again.

"I woulda' put it in the report."

A short, humorless chuckle left Elijah's mouth, "You know what, I'm going to ask you an even simpler question to answer: Did everyone return to the compound after the assignment?"

"No, sir," was the only answer that Elijah received.

"See, that wasn't so hard," a smirk crept across Elijah's face as he began the next question. "Who didn't return to the compound?"

A grumble sounded into the blonde's ear, just quiet enough that he couldn't understand what the man had said.

Elijah cleared his throat. "What was that?"

The man on the other end answered with another incomprehensible grumble. "One more time, Sean. And please enunciate for God's sake."

"Vincent Torvus."

Elijah finally sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. How was it possible that this man could make such a simple task so draining.

"And why, pray tell, wasn't it in last night's report that someone was captured?"

"'Cause he was a whining pup 'bout how the rain 'as cold, sir," Sean spat the sentence out, venom lacing every word and a growl behind the word sir.

Elijah nodded, a short hum coming from his throat, "Oh, I'm really hoping you're not using that tone with me." He smiled, mostly because it was amusing to him that a creature could be so bothered by another that he just up and abandoned the other.

"An' what if I am?" Sean was testing how much dominant ground he could gain, something that alpha male Skinwalkers sometimes did, though Elijah thought that Sean knew better than to challenge him even slightly.

"Sean, you've been demoted to cleanup duty. You're eligible to try to make your way back up through the ranks, but just so you know," Elijah paused, _"I'll make it a hell of a lot of work to make it back to the rank you were previously at."_

"You, you can't do that," Sean stuttered out, "You're not the pack leader! All you do is give us food and make us work for you." Elijah could hear him growling through the phone.

"I run Manhattan, Sean, and I'd rather not have worthless rats at a level even close to mine. Also, I make sure hunters don't wipe out your whole pack. I'm the only thing that stands between them and you. I'm what keeps you and all the supernaturals of this city fed and safe. If you don't want to comply to what I have to say about you being demoted, I can personally escort you out of the city. _Permanently."_ Elijah waited for an answer, and for the sake of Sean's life, he was hoping it was one of compliance.

"Yes, sir." With those two words, Sean hung up before either could say another word.

Elijah wordlessly put the phone into his front trouser pocket and shrugged on the jacket he had retrieved from the closet during the first phone call. He picked up the brown, leather dog collar and matching leash which had been retrieved from the closet at the same time as when he had gotten his coat. The leash and collar stuffed into his coat pocket, he turned the lights of the kitchen off and he was off to find an animal shelter in the Lower East Side.


	3. Chapter One, Part Two

Elijah stood in front of the animal control and care center that would've had people on call for the area that Vincent and the others had been in. It was his first choice, and he was pretty confident that he would find Vincent inside.

He ascended up the front stairs of the building towards the front door, his hands shoved deep within his pocket, one of them gripping the leash and collar.

The rain of last night still hung heavy in the air; puddles were evident on sidewalks and roads, but the sky had begun to clear. Rays of sun gleaned through breaks in the wispy, grey clouds of the late morning.

Elijah reached the heavy mahogany door of the shelter and ran a hand through his bangs, fluffing them a bit before smirking slightly and throwing the door open, entering into the front reception area of shelter.

A small bell rang and a women looked up from behind a desk near the back of the reception area, though this area also seemed to double as a supply shop for numerous animals.

Elijah smiled towards the women, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Hi, yes, I'm here about a dog?" The women looked up from her computer and peered over her glasses at him.

"Really?" Sarcasm leaked from every fiber of her being as she deadpanned the question.

Elijah let out a short, awkward laugh. "Not much else to come about other than cats I guess..."

The woman blinked once. "You got something in particular you're looking for or do I have to give you an adoption application form?"

"Oh, no, my dog got out last night in the storm. I live down near Orchard Street." One lie.

"We didn't get any dogs with tags in last night. I did all the paperwork for the newcomers."

"My nephew got his collar off before he bolted and I didn't notice till I went for the leash." Two lies.

Elijah pulled the collar from his pocket and showed it to the woman.

"You know what he looks like?"

"Yeah, he's a German Shepherd Husky mix. Blue eyes, standard German Shepherd coat look on his back with a cream color from the bottom of his muzzle to his belly." And a truth.

"Maryl!" The woman called to what Elijah presumed was some backroom with a worker who could help him find the dog.

A worker popped her head out of a door behind the desk. "Yeah, Ma'?"

"This guy's the owner of that dog you an' John brought in last night."

"The one with the really pretty eyes?"

The woman ran a hand over her face and sighed. "If that's the one that came in last night from near Orchard Street, then yes. Take him back there to see if the dog's his. Kennel number fourteen if this sheet is right," the women stated while reading a sheet from a clipboard.

The women who had stuck her head out of the backdoor, Maryl as the woman had called her, smiled to him, exited the door she was standing in, and motioned for him to follow her to a different door.

"You got a name?"

"Elijah."

"That's a biblical name, right?" She questioned as they reached the different door. Loud barks could be heard from behind it.

Elijah smiled brightly (though in actuality every smile after the smirk that had dropped from his face before he opened the door was fake), "I think so; my dad was pretty religious."

"Oh, well, it's a nice sounding name, biblical or not," she said, smiling while opening the door to a small room with a few leashes, collars, and a door that presumably lead into the place where the dogs were kept.

She closed the door behind him, shutting them into the room temporarily, the sound of barking louder than ever. Placing a hand on the next door, Maryl rose her voice so that she could be heard, "Sorry, it's a bit loud!" Elijah just smiled with closed lips and nodded.

She opened the door and the barks just got louder, "They're just excited-" she stopped short of saying her sentence when Elijah entered the kennel room and the barks fell silent. "That's weird..." She mumbled, closing the door behind her, the latch clicking in the silent room. She glanced down the walkway between the kennels and scratched the back of her neck.

"Well... I'll lead you to kennel fourteen."

"Have they ever done this before?" Elijah questioned as they walked down the corridor of kennels, dogs on either side watching him silently. He knew very well why they had reacted so strangely.

"No, and I know damn well that this many dogs don't just up and stop barking."

"Well, at least it's quiet," Elijah mused as they neared a kennel with the number fourteen zip-tied to the chain-link.

"Here's the handsome boy!" Maryl's voice rose in pitch as she crouched to the ground to be on the same level as the dog, Elijah standing behind her.

The dog, identical to what Elijah had described, perked his ears at the sound, his head rising to survey the both of them. From behind Maryl Elijah mouthed the words, "Make it look real," to the dog, a cheeky smile akin to the one that had dominated his face before entering the building. The dog huffed (the expression would have been made complete if dog's could roll their eyes), though not noticeably, before going absolutely mental with happiness. Elijah new it was an act, but Maryl was convinced.

"Woah!" She laughed, "Well someone's excited to be going home!" She was still addressing the dog. She turned her head behind her to Elijah, his cheeky grin replace with a simple smile. "He is definitely your dog; me and my brother John couldn't get him to do anything, much less be this excited."

"Really? He's actually really well trained," Elijah crouched and gripped the chain-link door with one hand, the other falling between his legs. "Has somebody been a naughty boy?" Elijah babied through the door as the dog licked his hand happily through the fence. "Sit," Elijah commanded, and the dog sat.

"Wow," Maryl was impressed. "He is trained." It is considerably hard to get an over excited dog to sit immediately after one verbal command.

Elijah chuckled, standing, and dismissing the dog with the wave of his hand, causing it to go back to jumping at the door, its tail wagging at an immeasurable rate.

"Well, all you have to do sign some release papers and you can take him home." Maryl grabbed the clipboard that hung next to the door and proceeded to open the kennel.

The dog leapt from the kennel, pouncing onto Elijah, his paws nearly reaching his shoulders. He made a few licks towards Elijah's face, but remained unsuccessful. "Come on Vinney! We talked about this!" Elijah laughed, half-heartedly trying to push the dog down.

"So, Vinney's his name?" Maryl questioned.

"Yup." That one wasn't a complete lie, though Maryl did smile and say it was cute. Vinney's collar and leash were eventually put on and they were both walking towards the heavy, mahogany front door after signing all the necessary paperwork, Vinney trotting happily at Elijah's side as they exited.

Once out the door, both of their demeanors changed dramatically. Elijah went back to having a cheeky grin plastered across his face, and Vinney seemed annoyed. Exasperated maybe?

Vinney made a huffing noise towards Elijah. "Yes, it was necessary that I come get you. You might have presented as an alpha, but the East Pack's treating you like an omega. Nobody would have come to get you." Vinney grumbled. "Would you at least try not to piss them off." This went on, Elijah would say something and Vinney would react with a small sound, though the important points of the 'one-sided' conversation included the following (all of which are in order, just some of Elijah's statements are not included):

"Why, yes, Vinney," Elijah used the name sarcastically, "I could get us home much faster, but I rather like how quiet you are as a dog."

"Oh, touchy. Doggy wants to be called by his real name: Vincent?"

"I talk like that because it weirds you out."

"Already asking about food? Really?"

"Well I'm sorry, maybe you should have gotten caught by a shelter that gives human food to dogs, because that's definitely how it works."

"Don't tell me not to be a smart-ass; I'm only like this because you make it too easy to be one."

"Yes, there are clothes back at the apartment. Did you think I dumped all you stuff into the street because you didn't come home one night."

"I know you don't live there anymore and that you haven't stayed overnight in weeks."

"I thought it would be nice; just in case."

"I wasn't hoping you'd come back."

"I wasn't."

"Drop the topic or I'll drop you at the compound with all the friends I know you made."

"Don't use that language with me young man."

"What do you mean you're only 3 years younger than me? I might look twenty-six, but that's just because I'm aging well."

"Don't call me 'old man'."

"Asking if I need a cane isn't funny."

"Okay, calling me grandpa is just plain weird."

"And we're back to you complaining about how hungry you are."

"Fine, I'll take us back the quick way if you'll stop talking about how hungry you are."

With that, Elijah took them back to the 'apartment' as they had come to regard it, though really it was just the renovated basement of a tenement building turned coffee shop. Elijah had made a deal with the owners that he would renovate the basement out of his pocket if they didn't ask any questions about what he did down there. He also paid rent on time, which sweetened the deal.

Elijah looped his hand through the leash and pulled his keys from his pocket, made his way down the small number of steps from the street to the double doors, unlocked said doors, and in rushed Vincent, the dog. He was still on the leash so he couldn't make it very far.

Elijah flicked on the lights of the kitchen-entryway combination before he crouched to Vincent's level so that he could unclip the leash from his neck.

"I put some clothes in the bathroom," Elijah, removing his shoes, informed Vincent who sprinted through the door to the un-lit bathroom. Said bathroom door was also closed by the dog. Some how.

"Hey! What did I say about running in the house!" Elijah called to the bathroom.

"That if I do it again, you'll smite my ass," a voice answered back shortly after from the bathroom, light flooding from underneath the door. "I'm not really feeling the heavenly wrath, though." The voice chuckled and the sound of shuffling clothes and a belt could be heard faintly from the closed room.

"Yeah, whatever," Elijah answered as he sat back down at the kitchen island, putting his magnifying goggles back on and fiddling with the glove again. "I wasn't going to waste my morning getting you out of the shelter just to obliterate you."

"Sounds like something you'd do." Elijah rolled his eyes. "What? No comeback, blondie?"

Elijah pushed the goggles up us face to the top of his head, rubbing a hand over his face. He walked to the door of the bathroom. "You done getting dressed pretty boy or do you need help?" Elijah smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood in front of the bathroom door.

The door to bathroom swung open forcefully, a young man with unruly, autumn brown hair a bit shorter than Elijah's stood in the doorway. The collar of his dress shirt messed up and the shirt was also untucked from his casual black pants. In his hand he held a black bow-tie.

"What is this?" he growled, shoving the bow-tie closer to Elijah's face. He took it from his hand.

"It's a bow-tie."

"Yeah, no shit," the young man was shorter than Elijah, not by much, but enough so that he had to tilt his head up to make eye-contact with him. "Why was it in with the clothes you laid out?" He was still glaring at Elijah.

"Because I thought you should wear it," Elijah looped the bow-tie around the young man's collar, pulling him closer by the fabric and beginning to tie it.

"Oh hell no," and with those words the young man had pushed Elijah away slightly and pulled the half-tied bow-tie from his neck. "You can keep that shit."

"Come on Vinney, just put it on." Elijah pleaded.

"No." Vinney, or Vincent as he preferred, walked past Elijah toward the kitchen island to examine the pieces strewn haphazardly over the counter-top for a distraction. Elijah sighed dejectedly and watched Vincent from behind.

"Somebody was able to keep busy over the weekend without me," Vincent commented as he picked up a stray piece of silver-colored metal and changed the subject of their conversation. "Hey, what is this stuff? It looks like silver, but it doesn't burn."

Elijah took the piece from Vincent and placed it down. "It's melted down angel-blade."

"You melted down an angel-blade?"

"I was bored, you were gone for the weekend." Vincent laughed slightly at Elijah's answer to his question.

"Wow, I mean I know how impulsive you can be from staying here for a week, but melting down an angel-blade just to mess around with?"

"I calculated the risks, found none, and said what the hell. Also, I'm not impulsive, I just know how to take risks."

Vincent snorted. "What's it gonna be Eli?"

"Well, Vincent, I'm so glad you asked," Elijah picked up the finger-less glove with bits of the metal on it and put it on his left hand. His fingers fit into the metal snuggly, creating an effect of claws or blades on each finger. Metal continued down the glove to secure each piece to the glove and the other pieces of metal. It was incomplete, the thumb and ring finger barren of metal. "I'm making an easily concealable way for me to wield the metal of an angel-blade."

"I will say it's cool, but did you actually spend the entire weekend on that," Vincent used his hand to reference to the glove on Eli's hand.

Eli cracked a bright smile while undoing the buckle of the glove, "I'll take that as a compliment, now," he said as he placed the glove on the island and grabbed his coat, throwing Victor a worn, dark brown leather jacket, "I promised you food, so why don't we go get lunch," he finished. He rolled down his sleeves and fixed the cuffs before pulling on his thick wool blazer that came to his hips and collar that folded around his neck.

Vincent on the other hand still stood holding the jacket Eli had given him. "You had this?"

Eli looked up from his tie, which at the moment he was trying to fix. "Yeah?"

"I thought it was gone."

"It was," Elijah said, finished fixing his tie, "I got it back."

"How in hell did you manage that?" Vincent asked, shaking his head as he shrugged on the leather jacket, fitting nicely over his shoulders.

"Long story," Eli answered, "Now, do you want to go to that burger place down the street, or do you want to go someplace else?"

Vincent and Eli made their way to the burger place down the street, Vincent's favorite actually, walking side-by-side. Smiling and making humorous jabs at each other as they walked the short distance in the afternoon air of New York City. It was loud, noisy, sometimes smelly, but Eli loved it. He loved how it all just... Worked. Everything had a place and a job that made everything happen.

The burger place wasn't busy, but it wasn't empty. They had sat in a wall booth, one across from the other. Vincent had ordered the same burger he always got, even though it had been a while since he had gotten the chance. It was the same place Eli had taken him when he first found him, cold, hungry, and alone.

Eli didn't order anything, per usual of any place they went out to eat at.

"So, Vincent," Elijah began to Vincent, "there a reason I had to get you out of that shelter?"

Vincent gave him a bitch face, but Eli's grin never faltered. "It's not my fault they up and left me," he muttered under his breath.

"I demoted Sean because he failed to mention anything about it in his report."

"You did what?" Vincent asked, bewilderment covering his face.

"Demoted him to cleanup duty. Is something wrong with that?" He tilted his head to the side as he mumbled the last sentence quietly.

"Yes!" Vincent whisper-yelled, as to not upset the quiet restaurant, "He's gonna make it impossible for me to be part of that pack!" He dragged a hand over his face and sighed. "So much for your 'knowing how to take risks.'"

"I guess you'll just have to start staying with me full-time again," Elijah cracked a smile, not much of one, but enough that Vincent was able to catch it.

"Wait one fucking minute," Vincent began, his jaw slack. "You knew I wouldn't be able to merge with the pack if such a high-ranking scout was demoted. All so that I would stay full-time at your place."

"Got me," Elijah let the smile consume his whole face.

Vincent hung his head smiling, a laugh breaching his lips slightly, "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or angry."

"I encourage you to choose the flattered option as I planned on reacting better to that one."

"This is what I get for working with a war and battle statistical analysis consultant."

"A new housemate? Because that's what I got."

Vincent shook his head. "Man, you are an insufferable asshole."

"Yet you keep on coming back," Elijah finished as the waitress placed Vincent's food in front of him. His eyes sparkled.

"You better be paying, ass."

Elijah did pay for Vincent's meal. Just like every other meal.

They went back to the apartment after Vincent finished eating, and stayed there for a couple of hours. They had decided they would retrieve Vincent's stuff from the compound tomorrow.

Elijah was almost done with the glove, merely fiddling with the mechanisms at this point, and Vincent was still in the shower, though he had only entered the shower twenty minutes ago. Elijah's phone rang on the marble, much like when Elliot had called him before he had gone to find Vincent. He answered as the shower cut off.

Vincent exited the shower, pulling the curtain back, hardly seeing himself in the steamed mirror of the bathroom. He pulled the soft towel from the wall and dried himself, rubbing the towel over his hair, trying to get it dry, though it was in vain. He sighed, dressing himself as he heard Elijah talking to someone. He pulled his belt through the loops of his dark black jeans, doing the buckle up and pulled on his undershirt next. He did the buttons of his dress shirt, making sure the collar was straight before lifting the leather jacket up to look at it. He smiled.

"That's a story I'm gonna want to hear," he spoke softly to himself before pulling the jacket on and making his way out of the bathroom.

Elijah had just hung up his cellphone and was grabbing his coat.

"Who was that?" Vincent asked from the doorway that lead to the master bed and bath.

"The police."

"Really? What did they want?"

Eli shoved the glove into his coat pocket before answering Vincent's question. "They found some bodies down near Orchard Street in the Lower East Side. Said it looked up my alley."

"Wait, isn't that where you had the scouting mission last night?" Vincent asked, following Eli as he made his way to the door.

"Did you ever figure out what it was that was out there?"

"It was a full moon, but from what little of its smell I could catch, it smelled like a ghoul."

"Great," Elijah sighed out. "We're gonna take the fast way; I'd rather get there before the newspapers start showing up."

With those words, they left for the crime scene.


	4. Chapter One, Part Three

They found themselves outside a large parking garage, the entrance blocked off with police tape and a pair of police guards. Elijah walked swiftly towards them, Vincent jogging slightly to keep up with Eli's swift pace.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay on the outside of the yellow tape," one of the officers stepped forward to stop Eli and Vincent at the tape.

"I'm a consultant; Police Captain Nicolson called me in," Elijah answered, stopping at the tape. The officer who had asked him to stay behind the tape eyed him suspiciously.

"Right... Jerry, you ever heard of Nicolson calling in a consultant to a crime scene?"

"Only some stories 'bout a guy who would solve the weird cases for 'em. The ones where people would be completely mauled with their hearts or throats missing. Stuff like that." Eli sighed.

"Could you just call him up and tell him we're here so he can give us clearance."

The officer who had spoken to Eli first pulled his radio from his chest. "You two got names?"

"I'm Elijah and this is Vincent." The officer nodded, pressed a button, and began to speak.

"Nicolson, I've got two guys up here named Elijah and Vincent saying you called them here as consultants. Can I let them in? Over." The officer lifted his finger from the button. "Now let's see if your little story is-" he was cut off by a crackling through the speaker of his radio.

 _"Already? That was quick. Send 'em down here. Over."_ Elijah smiled, lifting the police tape for Vincent to walk under before going under himself.

"It was nice to meet you boys; crime scene's on the bottom level?" Elijah asked once on the other side of the tape.

"Uh, yeah," Jerry stuttered out. Elijah nodded and both he and Vincent made their way to the elevator. The officers watched them as they left, the officer who had spoken on the radio called in that they were on their way down.

"You think those are the guys they use on the weird cases?" Jerry asked as he returned to his station.

"Why do you even listen to those stories?"

Jerry looked to the other officer. "But what if they were. I mean, did you see the bodies? Mikey said they had huge chunks out of 'em like something had been eating them. This is a city, Frank! We don't have anything that could do that."

Frank shook his head. "You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. Mikey tells all those stories to the rookies."

Jerry went back to facing forward towards the outside. "Sure."

Meanwhile, Vincent and Elijah were exiting the elevator. Vincent inhaled deeply before coughing, almost gagging.

"Oh, that smells nasty," he covered his nose, his eyes watering.

Elijah pulled the collar of his coat over his nose and muttered, "Tell me about."

They were greeted by Nicolson who gave them both a surgical mask to cover their mouth and nose, plastic gloves, and shoe covers. Nicolson was a graying man, though he still kept his full head of hair with him. He had a small scar under his left eye that he had gotten when he first joined the force, and subsequently when he had met Elijah for the first time. They had been working in tandem for years on cases that would have gone cold if Elijah hadn't been called in.

"Here are the stiffs; they're gonna be brought to the morgue soon, but I thought it would make your job easier if I let you look at them while they were still at the crime scene," Nicolson stated as peopled mulled about the scene, some taking pictures and others swabbing, sweeping, or examining.

"When did you find them?" Elijah asked, peeking over a person to get a better look at one of the two victims.

"Witness says that he had been hearing weird noises for a few days and that he eventually thought there were just some junkies so he called the owner. Owner came down to take a look, got hit by the smell, and found the bodies soon after. That's when we got the call and when the owner closed down the garage."

"They've been dead for three days at least, but something a lot bigger than a rat's been feeding on those bodies from what I can tell," Vincent added. Elijah nodded.

"Have you figured out who they are?" Elijah asked as he turned his back from the crime scene.

"Brother and sister who went missing from the area about a week ago, but the weird part is that the parents called us yesterday to say they had called to say they were out in Ohio and not to look for 'em. The couple said that the number wasn't displayed so the dad left for Ohio this morning to start looking there. I just had someone call the mother to have her try to identify the bodies, but they did have ID on them saying who they were," Nicolson finished clueing the pair in on the grim situation that seemed unable to phase Elijah while Vincent only seemed bothered by the smell.

"Well, Nicolson, this does seem to be up our alley," Elijah smiled under the mask and clasped his gloved hands together, "I'll get you a dead, rabid dog for cover up and I'll take care of the real thing, just like all the other cases you call me in for." Elijah's voice was hushed as he spoke of the deal. "I'll tell you when it's been taken care of."

Elijah and Vincent shook hands with the captain and left the scene in the elevator.

It was quiet in the elevator as they both removed the gloves, masks, and shoe covers.

"Man, did it stink of ghoul in there," Vincent inhaled deeply of the cleaner air of the elevator before sniffing his clothes, a grimace covering his face as he recoiled from the clothes. "And I just took a shower too," he added in a sad mumble.

"At least we know what we need to look for. I'll have Skinwalker patrols upped around this area to look for any unfamiliar ghouls. Hey, who do you think I should ask for a dog?"

"Crowley, definitely," Vincent commented as he sniffed his clothes again, the same expression coming over his face. "That demon could get a rabid dog in a heartbeat, and from what I remember, he owes you a favor."

Eli nodded, "I'll make some calls when we get back." They exited the elevator together, throwing the masks, shoe covers, and gloves into a nearby waste bin before making their way towards the exit. "By the way," Eli began as he shoved his hands into his pocket, though he abandoned the idea when he realized he still had the metal glove in his pocket and that it was much too bulky for him to comfortably rest his hand in the pocket, "Can you call Roy and tell him that the pack life wasn't really working for you and that you'll be moving in with me? I already called him today to tell him I demoted Sean and breaking more 'bad' news to him could end with me eaten by a pack of Skinwalkers."

Vincent scoffed, ducking under the tape and lifting it for Eli, "Like you couldn't fight them off."

"You couldn't," Elijah added as they made their way down the sidewalk, "And if I was them, I'd go for pressure points first."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "How smart do you think Skinwalker's are?" His voice was laced with a familiar sarcasm.

"You're pretty smart." Vincent shook his head with a sigh as he rolled his eyes again.

"What am I going to do with you?" A wicked grin crept its way across Elijah's face, Vincent seeing it from the corner of his eye and already knowing what it meant. "Don't you even-"

"You can do anything you want with me."

"You're a jerk and I might have to punch you in the face for that."

"Remember the last time you tried to punch me in the face?" Eli asked as they rounded a corner, Eli leading the way.

Vincent rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, chuckling slightly as he reminisced on some memory. "Yeah," he stuck his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, "I think I broke my hand when I did that." They both laughed.

"Do you want to actually walk home for once?" Elijah asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I don't think we've ever actually done that for anything other than the diner." A smile glowed from Vincent's face. They were enjoying themselves as they would when Vincent would stay late, even after Eli had said that he could go home. Vincent had never felt more at home in Manhattan as when he was be Eli's side, though. Not when he slept in his room at the compound, which was drafty and dull, or when he spent time with the other Skinwalkers. His home was with Elijah, and he was glad he had an excuse to come back.


	5. Chapter One, Part Four

Eli and Vincent had walked to the apartment just like they had said they would, the short walk entertaining for both. Once they had arrived, Vincent went straight for the shower. He couldn't stand the stench of the ghouls on him. The stench was sour, comparable to a ripe corpse, and it suffocated his own scent along with also making it harder for him to pick up scents around him.

He closed the bathroom door that connected to the kitchen, turned the shower on, and opened the door that lead into the master bedroom (and the only bedroom) of the apartment. He shed his jacket and stalked towards the dresser near the door that connected to the kitchen. He opened the first drawer, pulling out the outfit he had left in case he ever needed to stayed at Eli's. The clothes Eli had given him, other than the jeans and the leather jacket, were all Eli's. Especially the bow-tie.

Vincent stripped of the rest of his clothes and threw them into a hamper near the door. Grabbing the outfit, he continued to the bathroom door, shut it, and locked it. He pulled the shower curtain back and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain on his already steamed image in the mirror.

The water fell over him, dulling the smell that clung to him. He scrubbed his hair and body vigorously, desperately trying to at least cover the scent of rotting corpse. Humans wouldn't be able to notice it, but most supernatural creatures would definitely be able to. If he were to show up to the compound smelling like this, he'd most definitely been mocked, even attacked. It had happened to him before. Getting covered with the scent of other supernatural creatures was part of working with Eli.

It was part of the reason the pack hadn't been accepting him. He smelled too much like different creatures too often, but the one scent that was on him the most was Eli's. Eli's scent wasn't bad, not at all. His scent was a mostly human, though it was almost sweet, like sugar-water. Vincent didn't mind it, but the other Skinwalkers would always notice.

In most of the East Pack, Eli was regarded as a landlord, if anything. The pack had been in the area for years before Eli approached them with an offer. An offer that would in turn bring a drastic decline in death by hunters. Hunters were a problem for any supernatural creature, or monster as they were so disdainfully regarded as by the rest of the world. Hide or get found. Get found, get killed. Those were the rules of the game that all the creatures of Manhattan had been playing by for years before Elijah came along.

Eli had proposed to the East Pack that he would provide food, safety, and shelter in exchange for being his enforcers. A group that could move undetected through the borough quickly. Eli had told Vincent he had been watching all congregating groups of creatures, and that after two months of watching, the East Pack had been the most promising for what he would need. Vincent had commented about how maybe two months was a bit overkill, but that was before he knew how thorough Eli had learned to be in his previous occupation.

Eli soon took control of the city with the help of Skinwalker patrols giving him information on where creatures lived and how many were contained within the borough. First, he had gone to the top demon of Manhattan (Crowley wasn't King of Hell yet and with Lucifer still in the Cage so the demons were a relativity self governed society), saying that he was going to be the person to run the city and that he would be giving the demons a negotiable territory of Harlem. He didn't comply, but after some 'persuasion' as Eli put it (lets just say individual demon occupation fell drastically), the deal came through with the Demons set to occupy Harlem. After Crowley came into power, negotiations were held and the Demons came into control of all territory above Harlem.

The Angels had been next on his list, and those negotiations were a breeze, but at the current time Angels have begun to be seen less and less in their territory, the East and West sides. Eli has given them a warning that if they fail to lay claim to the territory at the annual summit, he'll open the area back up to the other creatures since they could definitely use the extra room.

Concentration of the creatures that weren't as central to another 'agency' (i.e. Heaven or Hell) had always been concentrated in the lower parts of Manhattan. Eli had gone to them last, informing them they would receive care and safety should they agree to the terms of the agreement, which were that they would not kill humans that they were not given explicit permission to kill and that fighting between groups would not result in bloodshed. After settling any uproar that resulted, he let them sort out whatever boundaries they needed on their own. He also kept an eye on any creatures that were in the Angel or Demon territories, though over the years they had migrated to the area he had designated for them.

Everything worked like clockwork, with the occasional hiccup in the system which resulted in incidences like what Vincent and Elijah were currently taking care of with the rogue ghouls. Usually, newbies didn't get in without somebody knowing since Elijah had Skinwalkers posted at each entrance to the island. It did happen though. It was problems like these that would result in hunter sightings, and the occasional death of a supernatural creature.

Vincent finally deemed himself clean. Well... He smelled of soap and lots of it. He shut the shower off and began to dry himself before pulling his clothes on. He took a deep breath of the warm air, noticing a strange scent coming from near the door to the kitchen. He inched closer, crouching and inhaling again before identifying the scent as a Demon's. He opened the cabinet under the sink, pulling a silver-colored angel-blade from its hidden place under the lip.

He tentatively grasped the door knob, some of his dark brown hair still wet and sticking to his forehead, his feet bare, and his over shirt unbuttoned showing to show his under shirt. He narrowed his stark blue eyes and adjusted his grip on the angel-blade. He turned the door knob.

And he entered the room.

The door swung open into the kitchen, a loud bang sounding as it hit the wall and bounced slightly. Vincent stood in a defensive position, the angel-blade readied at his side and his brows drawn together.

Crowley stood next to the kitchen island, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat. Eli was nearby, sitting in on a stool with his arms crossed. On the island lie a dead dog. They looked to Vincent, both of their words falling short.

"Call your dog off, feathers?" Crowley's accented voice broke the silence. Eli laughed softly, hanging his head and shaking it slightly. Vincent's face flushed in embarrassment as he stood up straight.

"Sorry, Mr. Crowley," Vincent began as we walked back into the bathroom to place the angel-blade back under the sink, "I didn't expect there to be a demon in the apartment."

"Took you long enough to notice," Elijah commented from his seat at the spinning stool. He hadn't changed positions, his arms still crossed over his chest and one foot resting on the step of the stool.

"So," Vincent entered the kitchen again, shaking his hair of excess moisture to some extent, "You do know we eat of that counter, right?" He motioned to the dead dog on the kitchen island. It was large, with dark matted fur and menacing teeth that undoubtedly could have torn a normal human to bits. He sniffed the air once, the scent of soap, the sweet scent of Elijah, the sour scent of Crowley, and a hint of rabies coming from the dead animal. "Didn't think Crowley could get a dead rabid dog this quick."

"I deliver, but if we could get back to the agreements, Elijah," Crowley, turned on his heel to look at Eli again.

"Right. I'll call Nicolson up and tell him I've got the dog, you drop it off, and it's one less favor you owe me." Elijah stood, pulling his phone from his trouser pocket. "I'll go make the call. You two play nice." Elijah began to tap on the screen and stepped into the bedroom for privacy.

"So, Crowley," Vincent began cheekily, "how's Hell?"

"It's fine, mutt." Crowley had never been a 'fan' of Vincent. They always had a passive aggressive banter that went on between the two. Pin-pointing the exact reason they didn't like each other was troublesome, but the closest thing Elijah could find as a reason was that Crowley didn't like Skinwalkers (something about them being too shifty and that they made it hard for him to do anything in secrecy in the borough) and Vincent wasn't fond of Demons, which was understandable.

"What about those hunters you're so fond of?" Crowley looked at Vincent out of the corner of his eye, glaring at him. Vincent smirked. "Skinwalker," he said, referencing to himself, "I hear stuff."

"Stick your nose where it doesn't belong and it'll get cut off."

Vincent sighed, walking towards the cabinets and pulled a bottle of scotch and two glasses out. "Drink?"

"I won't be staying long." Crowley wasn't hoping to stay long. He would never admit it, but Eli scared him. Crowley knew what Eli was capable of, and that if Eli wanted to, he could play the world into anyone's hand. He knew he only busied himself with Manhattan because he was bored with planning and winning wars for others.

"We've got your favorite," Vincent tempted, holding the bottle so that Crowley could read it. It was Craig, aged thirty years. Crowley eyed Vincent and the bottle skeptically. His eyes squinted and his lips parted to form the expression he made when weighing options.

"Sure..." Vincent set the glasses down and poured some scotch into each glass. He closed the bottle and carried a glass to Crowley, offering it to him. Crowley accepted the glass, and Vincent took a sip of his drink. Crowley followed, Elijah entering the room again after finishing his phone call.

Once the drink touched Crowely's lips, it immediately burned him. He dropped the glass and it shattered loud against the hard tile floor.

"You put holy water in my drink!" Crowley exclaimed, his voice rising ever so slightly in pitch.

"That's," Vincent poked a finger into Crowley's chest, "for giving me a silver rimmed glass." Crowley narrowed his eyes at Vincent. "Your move, hell-bound."

Elijah coughed, announcing his presence. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all," Crowley answered with a fake smile and a small nod. "Just dropped my glass on accident. So, can I send the body to get dropped off?"

"Yeah, Nicolson says he'll be out back with someone to help carry it in." Elijah put his phone back into his pocket. "If there are any complications, just contact me." Crowley disappeared a few short seconds later, along with the body of the dead dog. Elijah walked towards Vincent, eyeing the broken glass on the floor before looking towards Vincent with a raised brow. "Are you winning?"

"I don't, uh, know what you're talking about," Vincent played dumb.

"The little prank-war between you and Crowley. Don't act like you don't know." Elijah crossed his arms.

"Maybe? I'm not really sure." Elijah shook his head.

"Rookie," he muttered under his breath. "I'm going to let this ride and evaluate you once somebody wins. If Crowley comes to me and tells me to tell you to stop, you win, but if you give up, he wins."

"Are you going to help me?"

"Not at all." Elijah smiled devilishly. "Get this cleaned up and make sure you call Roy. Then you can do what you want since we'll be doing nothing till we get any word on unknown ghouls."

"Sure thing, boss," Eli eyed him strangely when he called him boss since he had never called him that before. Vincent shook his head, chuckling, before cleaning up the mess that had been caused by his prank on Crowley.

Elijah put away the bottle of scotch and pulled out a map, lying it over part of the island. He starred places with a pencil while Vincent cleaned. "Looking for possible hide-outs?" Vincent asked.

"Yup." He sighed. "There are a lot though, even if we narrow it down to the area around Orchard Street and the parking garage there's so many places they could be. We're just going to have to wait for a report."

Vincent nodded, making a noise of agreement as he finished his glass of scotch before cleaning and drying the glass. He looked to the clock in the kitchen. "I'm going to go to sleep. I was out late on the Orchard Street outing and the kennel wasn't ideal for sleeping." He yawned. "If you need anything, just wake me up." Elijah nodded, not looking up from the map, holding the pencil between his teeth.

Vincent left the kitchen and entered the bedroom. He turned on the bedside lamp before turning out the overhead light and cracking the door that lead to the kitchen so that light could still creep into the room. He stripped of his over shirt and pants, leaving him in his white under shirt and dark-colored underwear. He pulled the soft, white comforter back and crawled into the queen sized bed before leaning over and turning out the bedside lamp.

He had been asleep for maybe an hour when the door creaked open.

"Vincent?" Elijah whispered into the calm air.

"Yeah?" His voice was raspy from sleep, though it wasn't extreme. He cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"You didn't call Roy." Vincent sat up, turning the lamp on.

"Shit, sorry Eli. I completely forgot." He glanced around the room. "Hey can I use your phone? Mine's at the compound."

"Yeah, sure," Eli said as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it to Vincent. Vincent dialed Roy's number and waited as the dial tone sounded.

 _"Elijah?"_ Roy's voice sounded into Vincent's ear. Eli was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed as his head tilted ever so slightly to the left while he watched Vincent.

"It's actually Vincent," Vincent said into the phone, his voice still a tiny bit raspy, but enough that another alpha male could notice over the phone. Alpha male Skinwalker's voices usually deepened like that when they did... _Things..._ **(A/N: This is so weird why am I writing something like this. Know what? This is a far as we're going to say about that this part.)**

 _"Vincent? Why are you using Elijah's phone?"_

"I left my phone at the compound." A beat of silence aired between them. "Look, Roy, the reason I'm calling is to tell you life with the East Pack just hasn't been working. I'm moving in with Eli and I'll be coming to get my stuff tomorrow. It's not your fault; you did a great job helping me integrate, it just wasn't working out."

 _"Oh, it's fine. I wish we could have made it work."_

"Thanks for understanding Roy."

 _"I'm happy for you both."_ Vincent's face twisted into an expression of pure confusion, his eyebrows knitting together and his lip pulling up ever so slightly.

"I don't think I understand, Roy."

 _"You and Elijah... You know, your voice was doing the thing, you're at his place and it's kind of late, whenever you would comeback to the compound we could always smell him on you..."_ Vincent's mouth hung open in disbelief. It wasn't bad that they thought him and Elijah were like that, but it was that Roy actually thought, Vincent and Eli... Did stuff like that.

"No, no, no, Roy. I'm not gay for Eli. Pack life just wasn't working out." Eli choked a bit as he heard the sentence.

 _"Oh, well, sorry about the misunderstanding... If you want I can get some people to help you move."_

"It's fine, Roy. Eli and I can get it, he just thought I should let you know. "

 _"That's sweet of him. Well, you two have a good night. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."_

"Yeah, goodnight Roy." Vincent sighed and hung the phone up. "Here's your phone back," he said tossing the phone to Eli.

"Do I want to know what he said?" Elijah's eyebrow was quirked as he still stood leaning against the door frame.

Vincent shook his head. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get some sleep."

"You want the door cracked?"

"You know me so well," Vincent whispered as he pulled the covers back over his shoulders, returning back to his quiet slumber.


	6. Chapter One, Part Five

The apartment's bedroom was still dark when Vincent woke, namely because it was underground and had no windows. I mean, Eli built it in a basement, what kind of windows are you going to have? Windows that show dirt? Just wake up, pull the curtains back and woo, would you look at that! Dirt! Such a surprise.

Really though, Vincent checked the bedside clock for the time. It was seven; earlier than he would usually get up (normal members of the East Pack were expected at breakfast by eight). The real reason Vincent was up thirty minutes early? Food. He smelled food. The one sure-fire way to get him or any other Skinwalker to do anything.

He rolled out of bed, messily carding his fingers through his hair to tame the mess that was his bed head. He stretched, donned some sweats, and headed straight to the kitchen.

Eli was at the stove, an open carton of eggs nearby. He was dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, which have not been described to you. To mend this mistake, said clothes will be described now.

He wore a white dress shirt **(A/N: I spelled that shit the first time)** the sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows and a dark red tie around his neck. His pants were simply black slacks held up by suspenders, of which Vincent had commented on before. Elijah's only response was mumbling, "I think they're cool." He hasn't stopped wearing suspenders. His current ones were black, but had been pushed down from his shoulders and now hung from his hips. On his feet were simple, white socks. Elijah never liked people to wear shoes in the apartment. He had never given a reason to Vincent, but he had always thought he just had a thing about dirt. We've already been over the fact that Eli has messy blond hair, though I'm not sure if we've covered the fact that his eyes are green.

They're green.

It's a forest green kind of color, but even that label doesn't really describe them. Vincent always had thought them to be Eli's most striking feature (they were one of the first things he noticed about him when they met) and Eli had thought the same about Vincent since his eyes were the same color as his dog form, a crystal blue.

That covered, we can return to the morning.

Vincent shuffled towards a chair at the island, now clear of maps and the other odd things that would litter it throughout its time as counter space. Sitting down, he crossed his arms and laid his head sideways over them. He watched Eli cooking through one eye as he drifted slowly towards a more conscious state of mind.

Eli turned the stove off and put the contents of the pan onto a plate that already contained what seemed to be some sausages. He then poured some coffee into a cup, added a splash of milk, and carried it all towards Vincent.

"Food's ready," He said as he slid the coffee and plate of scrambled eggs with sausage in front of Vincent. "And be careful this time; it's hot food you doof."

"Yeah, yeah," Vincent mumbled as he straightened in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "Any word on where those ghouls might be?"

"No," Eli answered as he sat down across from Vincent with a cup of tea. "If there's still no word after we get your stuff from the compound we'll start looking on our own."

Vincent nodded, remembering that they had planned to get his stuff from the compound. He took another sip of his coffee and started on his food, slowly becoming more and more awake. He finished the plate quickly, ready to at least try to get the morning going.

"I've got the dishes, you go get dressed," Eli stood and took Vincent's empty plate and mug from his place at the island before dropping them into the sink and turning on the hot water. He washed the dishes quickly as Vincent dressed himself in a simple black shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket.

He exited the bedroom and turned the lights off behind him as Eli finished drying the dishes.

Eli walked towards a different, lower cabinet as he spoke to Vincent. "Hey, why did you tell Roy your not gay for me?" Vincent coughed, surprised.

"Well..." Vincent began awkwardly as Elijah crouched and opened the cabinet and examined its contents. "You know how alpha's voices get lower when they do," Vincent paused to search for the right word, _"stuff..."_

"Sex?" Elijah asked flat-out as he stood with a small vial of what looked to be white light in his hand.

"Don't say that!" Vincent flushed. Eli shut the cabinet with the back of his foot before advancing towards Vincent with a devilish smirk growing across his face.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Eli stopped in front off Vincent.

"Let me finish you sick pervert," Vincent hit Eli on the shoulder softly as he walked toward the coffee machine, though it was just an excuse to get away from Eli. Eli smirked wickedly as he watched a flushed Vincent walk away before he downed the vial in his hand, his eyes glowing blue for a split second.

"Anyways," Vincent continued, "my voice was lower because I had been asleep, but he didn't know that and just assumed I had been doing... That kind of stuff."

"It's okay to say it."

"I'm not going to though," Vincent narrowed his eyes.

Eli smiled with his eyes closed. "Say it with me now: Sex."

"I will bite you." Vincent was almost at the point of growling, which wasn't something that normally happened to him.

"Ooh, feisty." Eli was struggling to hold back laughter; Vincent was struggling to hold himself back.

"You," Vincent pointed a finger at Eli, "are an ass." Eli pretended to act offended while Vincent glared at him before continuing. "Since I had been coming back to the compound with your scent on me, been spending so much time with you, and since I was now moving back in with you, he just thought it was because we were mates."

"Too bad for you that it's not true; I've been told I'm pretty good in bed."

Vincent bent down to pull his shoes on near the door. "Keep it in your pants and really try since we're going to be at the compound. I know you pride yourself in your strong relationship with the East Pack and they wouldn't take lightly to the likes of you with one of their own."

"But you're not part of the pack anymore," Eli said as he pulled his suspenders back over his shoulders and donned his coat.

"Even a low-level, pack-deserter is still a Skinwalker, and they'll still protect me from something they think is wrong."

"They don't think I'm that bad, do they?" Vincent sent a dead look to Eli.

"Most of your kind think we're abominations that should be sent straight to Purgatory."

"I'm not fond of most of my kind either, I mean, they tortured me for a few millennia before I escaped and then they hunted me down before I faked my death. Only thing that stopped the majority of them from looking."

"Harsh." Vincent commented as he straightened up. "Ready to go?"

"Just let me put my shoes on." Eli pulled on his shoes and they left for the compound which housed most of the pack of the East Side.

The compound was a large renovated warehouse. When Eli had acquired it, it was dilapidated and abandoned with most of the windows broken and the whole interior of the building caked in dust. Though with the help of the Skinwalkers they had been able to fix the place up.

They walked past the stationed guards at the entrance and continued to Vincent's room. Most of the compound was heading towards breakfast, so there was some foot traffic as they made their way up the stairs. The East Pack was one of the strongest and largest packs in the North East, but they couldn't have grown as much as they had if Eli hadn't helped them.

They stood in front of the door to Vincent's room, Vincent reaching up to the ledge above the door to grab a spare key. He unlocked the door and they both entered the small, drab room.

"Not one for decorating?" Elijah commented as he glanced around the room. It contained a twin bed, a dresser, a box or two, and that was it.

"Didn't feel like home." Vincent began pulling his clothes from the dresser and putting them into one of the boxes contained in the room. Eli hummed in response and helped Vincent collect his things. It didn't take long and they were out of the room quickly, Eli carrying one box and Vincent another since all of his belongings could actually fit into two boxes (which is sad when you think about it).

They made their way down the stairs which were now relatively clear save for a couple of teens making out in the stairwell (Vincent told Eli to keep walking, but Elijah teased him as they passed the couple, who paid them absolutely no attention since they were too caught up in each other's faces).

They were about to exit the building when they were approached by Roy.

Roy was a nice guy, older now, but nice. He had black hair with gray peppered throughout and the same went for his beard. Really though, he was just a lovable guy.

"Elijah! Vincent!" He called after them as he jogged towards them.

"Roy..." Vincent smiled, forcefully. He had been hoping to avoid an encounter.

"Good to see you both, especially you Eli," he said, shaking both of their hands (it did force them to move the boxes to their sides).

"Something you need, Roy?" Elijah questioned.

"Me," he motioned to himself, "Nah, I just wanted to tell ya' that a patrol just came in saying they caught the scent of some foreign ghouls coming from the sewers."

"Really?" Elijah inquired, his attention grasped.

"Yeah, I don't know the exact location off the top of my head, but I'll be sure to send ya' a message."

"That'd be great," Elijah was beaming, Vincent confused as to why he was so excited, though the reason was that he wanted to try out his new glove.

"Well, you two look like you need to get home. Oh, and Vincent," he grabbed Vincent's shoulder in a bone crushing grip. Vincent looked to the larger man with a slightly scared look. "Sorry if I made things awkward." Eli snickered, Vincent sending him deathly glare.

"It's fine, Alpha." Vincent bowed his head slightly, not making eye contact as such was disrespectful when addressing the Pack Alpha.

Roy let out a hearty laugh. "No need for that, Vincent. You're just a loner now; hell, I bet you could challenge me and win if you wanted to!" Vincent faked a laugh and kept his gaze pointed towards the ground.

"Well, we best be going. It was good to see you Roy. We should really get together sometime for lunch or something." Roy's grip left Vincent's shoulder.

"We should. Well, I've got to get back to keeping peace at the breakfast table. You two stay safe." Roy left the two and went back into the building.

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's get back home."

"He freak you out that much?" Elijah chuckled as they began to walk down the street.

"For a pack-less alpha, such a strong, mated, alpha is extremely intimidating. My hormones will tell me to either try and challenge him or run with my tail between my legs depending on the day." Elijah hummed in understanding, nodding his head slightly.

"Fast way back?" Elijah question.

"Sure," Vincent agreed and they took the fast way back to the apartment.

They placed the two boxes on the ground near the island before Elijah opened a door to a backroom and disappeared for a few short seconds before returning with two machetes and the glove he had made.

"Do you think angel-blade metal works on ghouls?" Eli questioned as he placed the machetes on the island, but kept the glove in his hand.

"One way to find out." Vincent unsheathed one of the blades to examine it before sheathing it again as Elijah opened his phone to read Roy's message about where the ghouls might be.

Hopefully, they wouldn't have to resort to the weapons, but the chance of them having to was high.


	7. Chapter One, Part Six

Weapons hidden beneath their clothes (except for the angel-blade glove on Elijah's left hand, which he was excited to try out), they headed in the direction that had been specified from the text from Roy. Apparently a patrol was passing through a park when they got hit with the pungent odor that is a ghoul and whatever victim they had claimed.

Ghouls were known for their eating of freshly buried corpses, but it had been documented that they would change their feeding habits if necessary. They're comparable to zombies in the fact that the only way to keep them dead is to destroy their head and that they can take the form of the corpse they're eating, something that a more ignorant human would call coming back from the dead. They also smell like maggoty corpses, which is the main reason Vincent was so appalled by their stench (Skinwalkers prefer fresh food).

The patrol had followed the scent to a manhole cover, made note of said discovery, and returned to the compound to report, as such was protocol. Elijah would take rogue cases of the smaller nature (he speculated that this group couldn't be more than two because of the number of bodies they found in the car garage). He'd find them, try and negotiate so that they could be integrated into the community and make sure that they no longer posed a threat. Out of city supernaturals weren't known for compliance as most of them had been affected by hunters in some way, shape, or form. Supernaturals didn't have much experience with what Eli was, even encounter one, so they assumed he was human, which wasn't very smart.

Humans are a weak species, and when seemingly defenseless, were regarded as such. The supernatural would go for Eli, and end up dead within mere seconds to a few minutes depending on the species.

Elijah flexed the glove, the metal pieces sliding smoothly over each other as the pair neared the manhole cover described in the message. Elijah and Vincent each pulled out a flashlight, though Eli placed his down and pried up the manhole cover, rolling it over to the side. He took up the flashlight again.

"Ladies first," Vincent motioned to the open hole with his now lit flashlight. Elijah sighed, his breath misting into soft white clouds before he began his decent down.

They reached the bottom, Vincent jumping down as Elijah dusted of the arms of his coat. He finished and pointed his flash light around aimlessly. "Smell anything, Scooby?" Elijah questioned, his voice distracted as he glanced around the dark tunnel.

Vincent rolled his eyes in response before his flashlight illuminated the path behind Eli. "Follow me," the whisper bounced off the close, concrete walls of the sewer as he maneuvered his way around Eli and started down the tunnel, Eli close behind.

Vincent turned left and right through the endless maze off tunnels, seeming to know where he was going, though Eli was lost. This continued for a short time before Vincent stopped abruptly at an intersection, switching his flashlight off and motioning for Elijah to do the same. They stood in silence, the only sounds an occasional drip and the quiet sounds of ripping and cracking. It was a sickening sound that came from the corridor to their right in the T shaped intersection. Soft yellow light danced lightly over the floor just in front of Vincent as they stayed behind the corner, hidden in the dark.

Vincent pulled his machete from its sheath and readied himself, Elijah doing the same. Vincent inched closer to the corner. A glance back to Elijah.

A nod of agreement.

Vincent moved into the light slowly. He spared a glance at Eli who urged him on with his eyes, when the sounds came to a halt and Vincent was tackled to the ground in a split second. He let out a groan as an elbow came down hard on his temple, making sure he would be unconscious for the next minute or so.

The ghoul that had knocked Vincent out stood to her full height above his limp body, though it wasn't that tall. It was the same face as the female corpse that was in the parking garage. A male with the same face as the male from the parking garage joined her, glancing at Vincent before he focused his full attention on Elijah.

Elijah held the machete above his head before slowly lowering it to the ground and kicking it towards the two. The male picked it up, eyeing him suspiciously as Elijah slowly pulled a gun from his waistband and doing what he had done with the machete to it. Luckily, they hadn't recognized that the glove was a weapon.

"We don't want any trouble," Elijah held his hands above his head.

"Like hell," the male snarled, gesturing with the machete as he spoke, "We know what you are. You're hunters." The candle light flickered a yellow hue on their faces, illuminating the black, rotting blood on the both of their faces and hands.

"Do we smell human?" Elijah inched forward a step.

"Stay the hell back!" The male screeched, waving the machete in Eli's direction. He hadn't picked up the gun yet, though it wouldn't do any good for either side; none of them were susceptible to the bullets Eli had loaded into it. What the ghouls didn't know was that all the cards were in Eli's hand.

The female placed a hand on the male's shoulder. "He's right. That one smells like that that nice Skinwalker we met back in Michigan," she motioned to Vincent with a glance, "And that one... I don't know, but he's definitely not human." She sent a inquisitive look towards Eli, but it was masked in fear.

"Just because they're not human doesn't mean they're not hunters."

"I don't want to hurt you. You look young, seem to have already encountered hunters..." Elijah tilted his head towards the two, an eyebrow raised.

"You don't know shit."

"Not about your life before you got into Manhattan, but once you slipped up? Oh you bet I knew everything about you once we found those bodies in the car garage." The girl looked to the ground with a guilty look when the male sent her a slight glare. "You got sloppy," Elijah raised his brows, "and there are certain rules of my borough that you," he pointed at the two and took a step forward.

"Stay back!" the male held the machete in two hands and pointed it at Elijah.

"You killed humans that weren't supposed to die by a supernatural," one step, "You didn't dispose of the bodies correctly," two steps, "You're in Skinwalker territory without any documentation what so ever," three.

"I said stay the hell back!" Elijah stepped forward once more so that the blade was pressed to his chest.

"I can give you food and shelter. I can give you family. I can keep you safe." The male ghoul was heaving ragged breathes, his eyes blown wide with fear and anger while the female clung to his arm with a face of only fear. "I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help."

"Like hell!" the male howled as he spun around and plunged the blade into Vincent's chest. His body lurched violently before falling limp again. A trail of blood fell from his lips.

Elijah thrust his gloved hand through the male's body with a sickening crunch of bone, his hand holding the long un-beating and darkened heart held in the silver metal. Black, rotting blood dripped from the silver color of the glove and soaked the portion of Elijah's coat that had gone through the male's body. The female let out a strangled scream as she fell to the floor, horror in her eyes.

The male's body twitched slightly before his eyes glowed a dim golden light and he fell limp. Elijah pulled his hand from the now dead ghoul's body with a squelch, dropping the heart and flicking a bit of the blood off.

"What," the girl stuttered as silent tears began to stream down her cheeks, _"What are you?"_

Elijah took his bored but inquisitive look from the dead body of the male and directed it towards the female.

"Angel." A simple title that was nearly unbelievable. She stared wide eye at him as he advanced towards her. She tried to scooch away from him, but hit the cool wall of the corridor. He placed two fingers to her temple and sent her into a peaceful sleep so that he could deal with the mess more easily.

He pulled the blade from Vincent's chest and Vincent opened his heavy lids forcefully.

"Why did I get stabbed?" He asked, strained and coughed up a bit of blood.

"I'll tell you later. Right now, I need to heal this." He went to place his palm on the wound, having to push Vincent down by his shoulder to keep him from sitting up. "And what do you think you're doing?"

"I'll heal naturally, and if I do I'll have an awesome scar with an awesome story." Vincent coughed blood up again. Elijah could tell he was drunk off the pain. Rolling his eyes, he healed the wound. His hand and eyes glowed blue as he did so and Vincent arched his back as the wound was healed. Elijah tried to hold him down, but while healing he wasn't as strong as usual.

"Better?" Elijah asked. Vincent breathed heavy.

"I am never going to get used to that," he commented as he sat up. He looked from the sleeping ghoul, to the dead ghoul in a growing puddle of rotting blood, to the heart, and to the drying blood on Elijah's glove.

"Yeah, you definitely have some explaining to do."

 **(That's the end of this chapter. This is being cross posted to this site so the next portion of writing I have for this is a five part christmas special, so I'll be putting aside a day to mass post it all so you can wade through it. It has plot in it, but Elijah-centric plot. After that, the prologue and first part of chapter two are already written so those will go up. After that, you'll have to wait for real time updates.)**


	8. Holiday Special-Day One

Elijah and Vincent stood together in the air terminal of LaGaurdia airport on a chilly December morning. Vincent had a duffel presumable holding clothes and other items he might need where ever he was going slung over his shoulder while Eli's arms were empty.

"You've got everything you need?" Elijah asked as he wiped some invisible dust from his black slacks with his gloves.

"Yes," Vincent sighed. Elijah had been checking and rechecking that Vincent had everything he needed.

"Do you have your phone?"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Yes, Elijah."

"And you'll call me when you get there?" Vincent laughed, but Elijah looked genuinely concerned.

Vincent shook his head with a smile. "You sound like my mother when I was leaving for New York City."

"And remind me again what happened when you got here?" Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. Vincent laughed awkwardly as he adjusted the duffel.

"Look, I'm just going home to Michigan for Christmas. I'll be back in a week." Vincent tried to comfort Eli, sending him a consoling look and placing a hand on his shoulder. Eli looked to the hand and sighed.

"One week," he nodded, "I can do that," it was monologue to himself, really. A way to comfort himself. He had been alone during the holiday season for years, and it was starting to wear thin on him. It was a hard time, and this year he had thought he would finally have someone to comfort him.

"We'll both be fine. Here," Vincent pulled a pen from his pocket and took Elijah's hand, turning it palm up, "You can count the days." Vincent made a tally-mark in bold black ink on Eli's palm. "That's one day. Once you've got seven tallies, I'll be coming home."

Elijah examined the mark further as Vincent stuffed the pen back into his pocket. He began to open his mouth to further delay Vincent, but he was cut off by Vincent checking his watch and realizing he really had to get going.

Eli watched Vincent's shrinking form before glancing back to the tally-mark. He looked at it for a second or so before he was gone. It was the start of Day One.

 **So while writing this I got the idea for the tally system and usually I don't just go out on a whim with something I came up with while writing a scene, but this doesn't really affect the over-all theme I've got planned out and it might bring the narrative arc up a notch to something I've never tried before. Idk. Welp, on to Day One.**

Day One-December 21st

Elijah arrived back at the apartment. The rooms were silent as he flicked the lights in the kitchen on. He slid off his shoes and placed them neatly by the door before removing his coat and gloves. The coat was a different one from the coat he had while taking care of the rogue ghouls. Both Elijah and Vincent had tried getting the smell out, but they ended up discarding any clothes that had been on the case. Except for Vincent's leather jacket. It didn't hold a lot scent and was currently being worn by Vincent, who was still at the airport, probably going through security or waiting to board the plane.

Elijah sighed and placed his gloves next to a stack of papers on the island. Elijah sent a slight glare to the papers. Those papers were the reason he couldn't leave the city during the month of December, and he'd been kept by the papers year after year since 1987.

In 1987 at the annual summit it was proposed that as a way to bring the spirits and relationships of the different supernaturals up, they would have the option to submit a form to Elijah before December first so that some one in the community could have a miracle. All of these miracles were preformed by Elijah. In turn, he had to stay in the city because it would take too much energy to be teleporting in and out of the city while also preforming miracles. It brought up the morale of the supernaturals, but the holidays had never been easy for Eli.

He picked up the top paper. It was the 'miracle' he was to preform today. It was usually just him healing someone, no different than with this one.

It specified that a newly wed couple (Werewolves) had an infant who had somehow contracted pneumonia. It was strange for Werewolves to become sick, even as young children, though it wasn't unheard of.

Elijah was familiar with the couple, seeing as he had been invited to the wedding that had been earlier in the year, before he had met Vincent. He ended up watching the reception and staying for a bit of food. He actually met a hunter turned Werewolf there named Garth. He was nice guy and Eli ended up inviting him to the annual summit since he was planning to promote better hunter-supernatual relations and thought Garth could help. The wedding had been a better experience than Roy's wedding in the sense that it was a Werewolf wedding, not a Skinwalker wedding. Werewolves are more... laid back than Skinwalkers while at familial gatherings. Werewolves were like, well, wolves, and Skinwalkers were comparable to coyotes when in large groups. He still ended up at both types of gatherings, but let's just say that while at the Werewolf wedding, nobody challenged him to a drinking battle (Roy's wedding... All I'll say is that Eli won).

Elijah checked the time on his phone, letting out a disgruntled groan as he saw that it was still early in they day. Boredom's hooks were already digging into his mind. It was a problem he hadn't had to deal with since Vincent had joined him.

He thought of the things he had to do today: preform the day's miracle and drop Vincent off at the airport.

It was a short list.

He had been doing the miracles later in the day for years, and he really didn't want to break tradition. Many of the younger supernaturals had built their Decembers waiting at the door for him to come merely because they had heard their parents speak of him.

So basically, till nine at night, he had nothing to do.

Elijah collapsed into one off the stools and laid his head into his arms. He tried to think of what he did when he didn't have company. Younger him had taken over Manhattan, slightly younger him had become a cowboy, and even younger him had become a violinist in an orchestra pit of 18th century Europe. Older him, younger than now him **(a/n: shiz I hope you're keeping up bc I might be getting left behind)** , would go drinking during the December season, usually with Nicolson. Problems with that were that one, Nicolson was no longer the bachelor he was when he and Elijah had started drinking together. Nicolson was almost fifty with a wife and two kids. Eli still looked 26. The second problem was that it was fricken ten AM. He would just look sad if he tried to go drink now.

He could call up Roy...

No. Only as a last resort.

He sighed and stood up, heading for the liquor cabinet, pulling out the strongest drink they had. Vodka, a gift from Crowley after some low level demons had gone after a Skinwalker, which was against treaties.

Eli pulled down a glass, poured some vodka, and drank it without blinking.

He put the bottle away and went into the bedroom that now held what little stuff Vincent had.

Elijah looked around before his eyes rested on an empty coffee mug sitting atop the bedside table. He tilted his head as an idea came into his mind.

He downed the rest of his vodka, picked up the coffee mug, washed both of the cups, and was soon walking out of the apartment.

He ascended the stairs to the side walk before turning around and going up the stairs to the coffee shop he lived under. He swung the door open, a small bell ringing.

The barista, her back turned to him as she prepared a coffee, called out a greeting before turning around and seeing who it was who had walked into the shop. "I thought you already payed rent this month?" She smiled, handing the coffee to her husband and pointing out whose it was.

"I did," Eli chuckled, "but I was bored so I thought I'd get some coffee," he walked up to counter, pulling his gloves off his hands and shoving them into his coat pocket.

"Well this is a first. I don't think you've ever bought one of our coffees," her husband said as he came up beside her and slung an arm over her shoulder. They were a happy, young couple doing what they loved.

"There's a first for everything," Elijah smiled. The woman smiled back at him as her husband went into the backroom. He ordered his coffee, and she began to prepare it, making small talk as she went.

"I've been seeing you with a guy lately. Are you two a thing?" Elijah choked a bit. First Roy and now the landlady.

"No," he laughed nervously as she finished preparing the coffee, "He's just a coworker."

"Well," she handed him the coffee and he pulled a few bills from his wallet, "You two would make a really cute couple."

He exchanged his money and an uncomfortable sounding thank you for his coffee. He turned to exit the store, reaching for the door when his landlady called after him. "What's his name?" she asked from behind the counter, phone in hand.

"Vincent." She began typing away furiously on her phone.

"Oh this is definitely going on my Tumblr." She was smiling wickedly as she continued typing, and for once a human actually provoked fear from Elijah.

"Tum-what?" He asked, a few of the patrons looked at him with a sad look while he could have sworn that some of the females snickered.

"Nothing... Enjoy your coffee!" Elijah nodded skeptically as she went right back to typing. He exited the shop and walked down the steps back to his apartment, taking a sip as he opened the door.

He'd never been fond of eating human food, seeing as it was usually bland to him, but he could usually stomach some coffee. This coffee was extremely good, better than any he had gotten in decades, and it brought his mood up.

He placed the coffee on the island and went into the bedroom to retrieve his laptop which Vincent had been using (Elijah had never taken the time to learn how to use the thing so he had been letting Vincent use it. Vincent had also been teaching him how to use the internet). He sat it down at the island and opened the computer.

He then spent the next hour or so watching cat videos and drinking coffee before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He retrieved the phone, eagerly answering it when he saw that it was Vincent calling.

"Hello?" Elijah heard Vincent's voice through the phone. He sounded tired, but all around fine.

"Hey," Eli smiled and leaned back in his chair, "I'm assuming you landed."

"Yup, like I said: I'll be fine."

"I know that," Eli teased, "I had just been hoping to spend Christmas with you..." Eli added softly, and I know I've said this multiple times, but Eli was really hoping to spend Christmas with Vincent.

"Those were the rules if my parents let me move to New York. I have to come home for family Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah. Skinwalkers and their family mush."

"Hey!" they both laughed over the line till Vincent said that he could see his parent's car, so he would have to go. He also said that if Eli needed anything from that he should just call.

Eli put the phone down on the island top, shaking his now empty coffee container just to make sure there was nothing left. He tossed the empty empty cup into the bin and checked the time on his phone. It was around 11:15 AM and the boredom was beginning to set in again.

Eli desperately hoped it wouldn't come down to calling Roy.

Eli closed the laptop and made his way to the small bookshelf in the bedroom. It had mostly lore books along with some of Elijah's favorite classics, though he'd rather read something he'd never read before. He decided that he was going to go out to a bookstore to find some new books when his phone rang.

It was Nicolson.

Elijah hoped there was some kind of thing that needed taking care of. He needed the distraction.

He held the phone to his ear. "Nicolson! Everything's good in the borough I hope." Lies. Utter lies. We all know you want something to do Eli you can't hide it. **(a/n: Its 12 at night and the next scene might end up like something straight out of a crack fic if I don't wake up. The italics you just witnessed are a side affect.)**

 _"Every things fine, but knowing you, you were hoping somebody got eaten or something."_ Nicolson chuckled over the line.

"Bull's-eye," Eli laughed quietly.

 _"Knew it. Anyways, I was wondering if you want to come to the force's Christmas party. It's about to start in a few minutes, but I knew if I told you sooner you'd just show up and wait."_

"I'll be there. I need anything to get in?" Elijah started gathering his coat and shoes, turning out lights as he went.

 _"Just tell the secretary you have a ping-pong appointment with Ramirez and she'll tell you where."_

"Where the fuck did you come up with that code?"

 _"Inside joke, now, I've got a stop watch that I'm going to start once I end this call. Let's see how long it takes feathers to get down here."_

The call ended abruptly, and once it did, the apartment was empty.

Elijah talked to the secretary, giving her the code words before she told him where the party was in the building. He walked out of her eyesight into the hallway she specified would take him to the stairs and elevator, but once she couldn't see him, he disappeared from the hallway and reappeared in front of the door to the party. He quickly opened the door to see a smug looking Nicolson looking at his watch.

"18 seconds and you're not even breathing heavy," Nicolson nodded with a exaggerated frown and his eyebrows drawn up, "Not bad."

"Really?" Elijah asked as he shut the door behind him, "I thought I got slower."

"Oh, no, you did." The two laughed heartily. They enjoyed each other's company throughout the party, Nicolson introducing Elijah to some of the officers and other odd people. They caught up on each other's lives, and Eli even got to fill Nicolson in on who Vincent was.

"Sound familiar?" Nicolson asked, referencing himself to Vincent. He was right, something similar had happened with Elijah and Nicolson. Eli knew that Vincent was going to age and that he wasn't. That he would eventually watch him slip away and he'd be left alone again, just like with any other friend he'd had.

They continued on with the Christmas party, though Elijah's mood was dampened slightly. The party was fun though. He knew at least three girls and even a guy had checked him out while one girl even flirted with him.

She tried really hard.

It was kind of pitiful, actually.

In the end she tried to give Eli he phone number, but he refused, saying he "wasn't open to relationships right now." She acted like she was cool with it, but he could tell she was a little sour. The party ended around 1:20 PM-ish and afterwards Eli went to the bookstore to get some new books to read. He spent the hours till nine reading one of the new books.

A few minutes before nine he began to get ready, putting his suspenders back over his shoulders, donning his coat and gloves, and finally putting his shoes on. He checked over the paper again before teleporting to the front door of the small town house in which the small family lived.

He rapped quietly on the door since he knew they had baby inside and didn't want to risk waking it, though the sound was still loud enough to be heard inside.

A tall male opened the door. "Elijah, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" The man was worried, and Elijah could tell he was sleep deprived.

"No," Elijah corrected shaking his head with a small laugh, "Not at all. Quite a few people submitted miracle forms for your child to receive one, so here I am." The male's eyes widened. The male nodded silently, still awestruck, and led Elijah through the house into the infant's room.

"My wife's in there with her," he whispered. The male really didn't know what to say.

Elijah entered the room silently, though the wife who was slumped next to the crib stirred. Their eyes met for a split second, and he continued to the crib as she scurried to her husband who stood in the doorway when she realized who he was.

They watched in each other's arms as he removed his gloves and un-tucked the sleeping infant from the soft pink blanket. He held the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling the fever that racked her small body.

He took his hand back as it and his eyes glowed a soft, white blue, much like when he healed Vincent in the sewer. He placed his hand on the infant's chest and healed her of the sickness that plagued her.

He wrapped the child back up in the blanket and held her in his arms, examining her. "She'll be fine," he handed the child over to the mother.

"Thank you," the whisper left her tired frame as tears glinted at the edge of her eyes. The husband held a hand out to Elijah, shaking hands as he whispered a thank you. Elijah forced a tired smile as he pulled his gloves over his hands again. He said his goodbyes, and took his leave.

He appeared back at the apartment, drained of energy and ready to sleep, which was a rare occurrence for an Angel. It usually meant they were hurt or dying, which he was. He'd used a lot of 'angel mojo' as some called it during the day and hadn't replenished the energy, leaving him tired. He decided he'd sleep since he had nothing better to do and fix the problem with him dying slowly in the morning.

Elijah fell asleep looking at the single tally-mark on the palm of his hand.


	9. Holiday Special-Day Two

Day Two, December 22nd

Elijah pried his eyes open from his dreamless sleep, slowly rolling over and taking in a deep breath of Vincent's scent, which was all over the sheets. An unfamiliar stiffness had set into his bones and muscles overnight.

"I thought sleep was supposed to be satisfying," he groaned, stretching. His eyes still closed, he searched the bedside table for his phone, taking some time for him to actually find it. When he finally did, he pressed the screen to illuminate it, but it was far too bright for his still adjusting eyes. Like I had said before, there are no windows in any of the rooms which means it stays dark, so it was like when you check your phone in the middle of the night and become blinded. It was another thing he was unfamiliar with.

When his eyes did adjust, but not before he cursed the phone under his breath a few times, the time read 10:17 AM.

"How do humans even get out of bed," he mumbled, throwing the covers off and putting his feet onto the floor. He was clothed in a pair of Vincent's sweats and one of his undershirts, since it was the only clothes that he knew some one had worn to sleep.

He dragged himself to the door and flicked on the light switch, flinching at the sudden light. He shuffled into the kitchen and towards a low cabinet. A yawn crept its way through him, and it was a strange sensation that left him dazed.

It was probably one of the weirdest things ever. He thought he had seen other humans do it before, but he'd never experienced it. It wasn't something he wanted to experience again.

He crouched to the cabinet, his bare toes flexing to keep him balanced. He pulled a small vial of white light, like the one he'd pulled from the same cabinet before. He examined it for a few seconds, watching the pulsating white light encapsulated within the container. Had you ever seen a human soul disembodied, it would have been similar to that.

Deathly similar.

He uncorked the vial and downed the contents, his eyes glowing blue for a few seconds. Within a few minutes he was back to a relatively normal amount of energy.

Once back to normal, he continued to a drawer within the kitchen and pulled out a black pen, going back over the tally mark Vincent had made on his hand and also making a new one, signifying that it was another day. Only five more days till Vincent would be back.

He went into the bedroom and began to pull his shirt off and over his head when his eyes fell upon the bathroom door. Vincent seemed to like showering after being asleep through the night. Was it customary after sleeping to bathe? Elijah had never taken a shower, being as Angels didn't require it. Even if his vessel did need cleaning (say after you force your arm through the body of a ghoul) he'd always been able to wash with water from the sink, some soap, and a rag.

He pulled his shirt back over his head and entered the bathroom, flicking the light switch and flooding the room with light. Eyeing the shower suspiciously, he pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower, still clothed in Vincent's sweats and shirt.

He examined the inside of the shower, remembering when the builder asked him where he planned to put it. He'd never planned on learning how to use it, and he hadn't, but he did know that if you twisted the knob water would spray and you would use it to wash yourself. What he wasn't sure about was whether you were naked or not while in the shower.

He knew that humans valued their clothes and were only without them when they changed their clothes or when with someone they wished to court. He was fairly certain a human wouldn't want to court a shower, so he decided upon leaving his clothes on.

He twisted the knob and cold water sprayed down on him. It surprised him and left him sputtering, but he got used to water began to soak through the clothes, and the water stayed cold. He stayed in there for about as long as Vincent did (twenty minutes).

He wasn't sure why Vincent enjoyed showering.

He turned off the water and stepped out, water dripping from his hair and the clothes. His vessel started to shiver, something he hadn't experienced since the time he accidentally teleported to Antarctica when he was still a fairly young Angel who didn't have much experience.

Both then and now were not enjoyable.

He stripped of his now drenched clothes and pulled a towel from underneath the sink. He knew how to use a towel.

Body dry and his hair dry-ish, he hung the clothes on a hook in the shower so that the water dripping from them wouldn't get on the floor. He turned the light out and left the bathroom to put his normal clothes on. It didn't take him long to be clothed in his normal, white dress shirt, black slacks, suspenders, and dark red tie. He sat on the bed and pulled on his simple white socks.

Once finished he checked the time on his phone. 10:42 AM. Still early.

He settled on getting coffee, just like he did yesterday. He had enjoyed it, and it was probably one of the only things mortals did that he also did. There was more than drinking coffee on the list, but it was the newest addition.

He put his new coat on, but skipped out on the gloves since he knew he'd be taking them off once he was in the shop. Out the door, up the two sets of stairs, and into the shop with the door bell chiming melodically.

The landlady looked up from her phone, eyes meeting Elijah's. "Two days in a row! Is the world ending?"

"That was 2012," Elijah mused, though it was true. The biblical apocalypse had started and ended that year and while it wasn't fun for most of the world, Elijah had enjoyed the occupation. It kept him busy.

 **(a/n: The wiki doesn't say when the apocalypse was in the show, and if I really wanted to i could maybe go through some episodes and figure it out, but I don't really want to so for the sake of me not really caring and the sake of the joke, the apocalypse was in 2012.)**

The landlady laughed slightly as Elijah advanced to the counter. "What can I get ya' Eli." Eli ordered the same thing as he did yesterday and the engaged in light conversation as she prepared the coffee.

"So... You and this Vincent guy definitely aren't a thing?" She asked, adding milk and other things to the cup.

Elijah coughed in surprise. "No, no. Just friends."

"So you're single?" She put a top over the cup.

"Yes?" Elijah had met humans who had asked him questions like that, but it was usually when they we're flirting with him. This female didn't seem to be flirting so he found it strange for her to ask.

"Then would you go on a blind date with a girl that I pick out?" Elijah pulled out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

"Not really looking for a partner right now," he stated as he placed the bills into her hand.

"So let me get this straight," She propped herself up on the counter with her elbows and Eli eyed her suspiciously, much like he had done to the shower, "You're single, not looking for love, and bringing your 'co-worker' home every night. Sounds to me like you two," she leaned in and whispered the next two words, "are banging."

Elijah grabbed his coffee and faked a smile with his eyes closed. "Were not." He turned to leave and was half way to the door when she called after him. "Not yet!" He stopped and rolled his eyes with a shake of the head, glancing back to see her typing furiously on her phone. "By the way," She caught his attention as he was about to exit the shop, "Me and my husband were going out tomorrow with a couple of friends if you want to come. Were meeting up here around ten PM to do some bar hopping."

It worked with Elijah's obligations at nine, so he might as well agree. Something to keep him busy is what he was thinking I suppose. He agreed to be at shop at ten tomorrow and left with his coffee.

He decided to go to a park instead of back to the apartment to drink his coffee. By park, really it was a patch of grass with a few garden beds and statues, but it was still a nice place to sit outdoors and enjoy a coffee since it was relatively empty.

It was called the Elizabeth Street Gallery, and Elijah sat enjoying his coffee on the only bench. It was across a path from the statue of a lion, though it seemed to be weather worn from being outside for years.

Elijah finished his coffee in silence and when he did, he checked his phone for the time. It read 12:45 pm. Only eight hours till 'miracle time'.

He contemplated what to do till then, thinking he could maybe read more of the books he got yesterday, but decided against it since he didn't want to finish them before he got back from miracle time since he didn't feel like going bar hopping tonight (or sleeping).

Roy maybe? No. He was already going to have to suffer through Skinwalker Christmas Eve and he did not want to spend more time than necessary with large groups of Skinwalkers.

Maybe Nicolson could entertain him? Elijah didn't have any better ideas.

Elijah tossed the empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can before teleporting to the precinct Nicolson worked from. He sauntered through the door, confidence restored to that which it normally was even though most of the conversation he'd had that day was about how him and Vincent should be together together. It was off putting to tell the truth.

Nicolson was in his office when he looked up and saw Elijah smirking in the doorway to the floor where his Detectives had there desks. He actually did a double take before rolling his eyes and raking an hand over his face.

Elijah's smirk only widened and he tucked his hands into his pockets as he made his way across the floor to Nicolson's office. He recognized most of the Detectives at the desks from the Christmas party, but there was one that he didn't recognize. He shrugged it off since it was probably because the detective just hadn't been at the party. He wasn't getting an weird vibes off him anyways.

"How's being a Captain, Nicolson?" Elijah asked once he was in the room, the detective he didn't recognize wheeling his chair across to another and leaning over her desk presumably to ask a question, though it wasn't important for Elijah to know.

"I've been a Captain for ten years, Elijah. It's the same as every other time you've asked," Nicoloson sighed and pulled his reading glasses from his eyes and began to massage his temples. "What do you want?" Nicolson asked when Elijah didn't leave.

"I," Elijah began as threw himself into a chair in the corner, "am bored, and I thought maybe bothering you would solve the problem." Nicolson deadpanned at Elijah, but Eli's smirk didn't falter.

"My job's hard enough as it is; don't make it harder," Nicolson warned as he placed his glasses back on his nose and picked up his pen.

"Make your job harder? I bet I make your-"

Nicolson cut Elijah off abruptly, "Look, you're an amazing guy and my best-friend, but we did this last December, and I can't afford to get that behind again this year. If you're gonna stay here, you're gonna shut you face."

" _Yessir,"_ Elijah mocked a salute and shut his mouth.

For the time being.

It only took Elijah five minutes to break the silence. "Why do mortals enjoy showers?"

"Elijah," Nicolson cautioned. Elijah had already figured out he wouldn't hurt him, so he didn't worry about angering him.

"Can you just answer this one question." Elijah begged, not a normal thing for him to do, but he really wanted to know why mortals enjoyed showers. He just didn't understand.

Nicolson sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day. "Fine. I'll answer your question, but tell me why you want to know." Nicolson was annoyed with Elijah, but he was intrigued by the fact that the Angel would just out of the blue ask a question like that.

"I tried taking a shower this morning and it wasn't very pleasant," Eli began, Nicolson choking on his own spit when Eli said he tried to take a shower, something he'd never heard him even be remotely interested in. "It was cold and the clothes got all wet which made them heavy and it was probably one of the worst experiences I've had in this century. It was weird and I don't think I understand." Nicolson began to laugh, Elijah confused as to why.

"You," Nicolson could barley get the sentence out he was laughing so hard, "You took a cold shower? Fully clothed?"

"Yes? I mean, I figured since the only times humans are completely unclothed is when they wish to court another, and I'm fairly sure they wouldn't want to court the shower..." He trailed off as Nicolson laughed harder, if that was possible. Tears were nearly streaming down his face. Elijah's brows furrowed, "I'm gonna go out on a whim and say I did something incorrectly."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Nicolson had almost gotten his laughter under control, only small chuckles here and there. "How long was this 'shower'?" He made air quotes around shower.

"Twenty minutes." This sent Nicolson back into a fit of laughter. He was absolutely howling.

Once he had finally calmed down he wiped a tear from his eye. "Man did I need a good laugh." He shook his head as smaller, quieter laughs still racked his body at times.

"What am I doing wrong with the shower situation?" Nicolson sighed (again) and shook his head.

"For an Angel who I've seen plan whole wars down to the most minute detail and then win that same war with the same plan, you can be really dumb."

Elijah narrowed his eyes. "Are you insulting me."

"Within a compliment," Nicolson quipped, "But if you want someone to teach you the proper way to shower ask that Skinwalker you're living with." Nicolson snickered and Elijah eyed him nervously.

"Alright... Well, I'll leave you alone."

"And how long will that last?" Nicolson mumbled.

Nicolson returned to his work and Elijah sat in the chair. And then he stared at Nicolson with out blinking till Nicolson finally got weirded out.

"Elijah, what the fuck are you doing?" Nicolson removed his glasses and looked to Elijah. He didn't blink or move his eyes from Nicolson's. It was extremely off-settling.

"Seeing how long I can stare at you without blinking before you get weirded out," Elijah said, voice distant. "It only took three minutes."

"Well you can stop now." Elijah blinked a few times and stopped staring at Nicolson. Nicolson returned to writing and reading the papers on his desk.

Elijah soon got out of his chair and was reading Nicolson's papers over his shoulder.

"What are you doing," Nicolson asked, exasperated.

"Reading over your shoulder."

When Elijah didn't get the hint that he should go back to sitting in his chair, Nicolson spoke again. "And?"

"It was an inside job, probably the banker." Nicolson sighed.

"I'm reviewing a case recently closed by one of my detectives. I'm not trying to figure out who did it."

"Even better; we can see if I'm right." Elijah still didn't move from his spot over Nicolson's shoulder.

"Why don't you go watch a Disney movie or something if you're so bored," Nicolson muttered.

"Disney? I remember a man by that name. I was there the night he was supposed to be taken by hellhounds."

Nicolson sent Elijah a look that said 'what the fuck man' but he didn't say that. "One, thanks for ruining Disney for me and two, you've never seen a Disney movie?"

"I believe I've seen some thing called Steam Boat Willy from Disney." Nicolson was out the door of his office and to the desk of the detective Elijah had yet to meet.

"Harrison, I need to borrow your Disney movies," Nicolson asked the male who looked fearful. Elijah walked up to the desk slowly.

"I'm not sure I understand what's going on, Nicolson."

"Uh, yeah, me too," the male detective said flustered, "I don't have any Disney movies anyways," he let out a small, awkward laugh.

Nicolson mocked the laugh, "We all know you have them in your desk now give them to me, it's an emergency." After some (not-so) gentle persuasion the detective was handing over the stacks of disks, though he mumbled something about how he didn't understand what kind of emergency required Disney movies. His Disney movies.

Nicolson thanked him and instructed Eli to follow him to the meeting room. Elijah sat in one of the numerous chairs while Nicolson wheeled in the T.V. they used to look at security footage and other such things. He had begun to instruct Eli on how to use it, but Eli informed him that he wasn't that old (even though he was pretty old).

"You're going to sit here, you're going to watch these Disney movies, and you're going to let me get some work done. Got it?" Nicolson pointed a finger at Elijah as the first disk queued up. He nodded and Nicolson left him alone to watch the first movie that had been loaded. It was Sleeping Beauty.

It kept him busy and he had soon watched three movies. Once the third one was over the searched through the stack for something that looked different than the others. Filing through, he came to a movie titled Shrek. It looked like an extremely peculiar movie, and Elijah didn't understand what kind of fairy-tale had an ogre as the main character.

He decided to watch it.

Off-set by the opening scene's humor, he decided to keep watching. He was slightly amused by the donkey though. He considered getting a talking donkey to keep him company, but came to the conclusion that Vincent would not take lightly to it. And that it would be like a real donkey, not an animated one. It probably wouldn't even have good taste in humor.

He watched on till he came to the scene with the magic mirror. He'd heard of magic mirrors in fairy-tales before, even had heard that someone in Europe had come into possession of a real one. He thought back to the fact that he couldn't get a talking donkey without upsetting Vincent, but a magic mirror? Easy to hide, most likely to be smarter than a donkey... Hell, he didn't care if it couldn't tell him if he was the fairest in all the land. All he wanted was someone to talk to and keep him busy.

He was very excited to try and make his own magic mirror, and he wanted to make sure Nicolson knew in case he wanted to join him. He jogged to Nicolson's office and stuck his head through the door.

"I'm gonna make a magic mirror if you want to come."

Nicolson's facial expressions went through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. While unpleasant for Nicolson, it was an amazing feat of human emotions.

Nicolson opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words as Elijah stood watching from the door. Eyebrows drawn up and head tilted slightly, silently asking whether or not he would join him on his strange adventure.

"Just," Nicolson paused, still not sure what words to use, "don't get into trouble."

A cheeky grin split across Elijah's face, eyes lit up and excitement coursing through his veins. "No can do, captain boy." His face left the door way for a few short seconds, enough for Nicolson to shake his head before his face appeared again in the door.

It was like a reoccurring nightmare.

"Also, I'm taking what you said about my idea as approval." Nicolson tried to argue, but Elijah was already gone.

Elijah's first stop was an old mirror store that was nearby the precinct. He quickly picked one out, payed for it, and was already teleporting it home. Next, and probably the harder of the two steps, was to find a witch who was powerful enough to make a magic mirror and would agree to do so.

He started at the highest ranking witches, the ones that the Skinwalkers kept close tabs on to make sure nothing was up. An uprising, an assassination, a new type of metal or even magic. They were the key players when it came to anything of that nature and watching them had payed off more than once in the years he'd had them watched.

After he had been turned down by almost every high ranking witch, he went to the file cabinet in the Skinwalker compound's basement and started visiting each witch they had on file. None of the files had been digitized, mostly because Elijah was more afraid of people finding the files online than he was of the files catching on fire. Elijah still hadn't learned how to win a battle on the grounds that were the internet.

Witch after witch, hour after hour, he began to lose hope thinking that maybe he could attempt to create a magic mirror. The file he pulled next was that of a witch who had been known to do petty tasks for humans for cheap prices. She wasn't liked by many in the witchcraft community, but Elijah didn't care, because when he asked her if she would do it for him, she said she could. There was a price, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything he couldn't handle.

"Name your price," He leanded into the palm of his hand as his elbow balanced atop of the glass checkout counter. The store had trinkets and do-hickeys, a few spell books for sale, and the more valuable crystals stored safely away in the glass holding case that doubled as a checkout.

"How about," she looked him up and down, "a kiss from an Angel?" She eyed him hungrily, though Elijah's suave attitude was immediately one of surprise. And maybe disgust. He wasn't sure why.

He laughed awkwardly, mulling the decision over in his head: his dignity or a cure for boredom.

He chose the cure for boredom.

He, though most of him screamed for him not to, flirted back with the witch who looked to be at least thirty years older than his vessel. "Only a kiss?" He leaned closer.

"Are you offering more?"

"Do it for the mirror, do it for the mirror," He chanted silently in his head as he continued negotiations. "Are you willing to take more?" He whispered into the woman's ear. He wasn't sure how far he was willing to go for this mirror, but he did know that if he skipped out on part of the deal, most of the witches in the community won't sympathize with her. They had all either thought making a magic mirror was dangerous or had been seduced by Elijah before. She was stupid enough to attempt making the mirror and be seduced by Eli. There was no way they'd feel bad for her.

The woman let out a shuddered breath and Elijah died a bit inside. He didn't think he'd ever stooped this low during December. Usually he'd barhop at night and have a girl with him during the day while they did... things. This year though? He just wasn't feeling it. It took a lot to get him drunk and he just didn't feel like bring home a girl.

Maybe it was because there was only one bed in the apartment?

Keeping in a shudder, Elijah pulled away from the woman and looked to her through his lashes. "So," he began, "The mirror."

"All I'm gonna need is a mirror, a human soul, and a little extra," she paused and raked he eyes over Elijah's form again, "power." Elijah was sure he threw up in his mouth. He wasn't sure he really wanted the magic mirror that badly now.

Elijah held up a finger and vanished from the shop for a few short seconds before appearing with the mirror. The woman looked turned on by the feat, and it weirded him out to say the least.

The mirror he had chosen was a full body mirror that could stand on its own. The glass was clouded in places and the wood that held the reflective surface was tarnished here and there, but Elijah thought it gave the mirror character.

He pulled a small vial filled with white light, the same as the ones he had been drinking, from his coat pocket and handed it to the woman. Her hand lingered on his longer than he would have liked, but to keep up the act he made flirtatious eye contact with her has their hands touched.

She pulled a few ingredients from the wall behind her and mixed them into a paste. She made her way around the counter, hips swaying more than was probably normal for the woman. She dipped he finger into the paste and painted a few symbols onto the reflective glass. Once done, she took the vial and grabbed Elijah's hand, opening it palm up. He saw the tally-marks and thought of what Vincent would think when he got home. Maybe he'd be impressed with what Elijah did while he was bored like he was when he made the Angel-blade glove.

"I'm going to pour the soul into your hand; do you think you can hold it while I do the spell?"

"Think?" Elijah's smirk grew along with his uncomfortableness, "Oh I know I can hold it." **(a/n: wtf am i even doing.)**

 **(a/n: it's 2:30 in the morning and i have an eight hour drive tomorrow but I made this picture to show how both Elijah and I feel because expressing this emotion through words is damn hard for me)**

The woman poured the soul out into Elijah's palm and he closed his fingers around it, his eyes glowing blue as he used a bit of Angel power to keep it where it was. The woman chanted an incantation and Elijah could feel the soul start to pull towards the mirror.

 **(a/n: i'd like you to know that any innuendos in this are not intentional and that i almost just wrote a horrible one that would have just been... it's best we not speak of it)**

The woman opened Elijah's hand gently and the soul floated to the mirror, soon becoming trapped within it. Once inside, it took the form of a human man. A drunk man. A man with a scraggly beard and a half drunk beer in hand.

The woman made an 'oh' face and looked to Elijah, surprised to see he was smiling with sparkling eyes. "It's perfect," he whispered, still looking at the now "magic" mirror.

"What 'er you lookin' at, blondie," the drunk slurred from with in the mirror.

"Well," the witch continued, "if you're satisfied with the outcome, I think it's time for the payment." She slid a hand up Elijah's arm and eyed him hungrily.

Elijah pecked her on the lips, winked, and said, "A kiss is what we agreed on," with a devilish smile plastered across his face before him and the mirror disappeared from the shop.

And after the night's miracle business had been taken care of, you can bet he was spending time with his new best friend.


	10. Holiday Special-Day Three

Day Three, December 23rd:

Elijah had spent hours upon hours speaking with the mirror, a soul now trapped beneath its reflective surface. A soul. A human soul that, for some reason, Elijah had.

He had set said mirror up near the kitchen island and spoke to it from his seat in one of the high stools. It kept him busy and it was interesting to interact with such a strange soul. Strange in the sense that the people like Richard, the old drunk who was now trapped in the mirror, usually threw a beer bottle at him when he tried to speak to them. They were a type of human that he had never been able to get close to till now.

Elijah watched as Richard took a sip from his seemingly bottomless beer bottle and leaned back farther into his worn lawn chair. He wore a stained, white tank-top and torn khaki cargo shorts. Their first conversations together had mostly been Richard slurring curses at Eli, asking what the hell was going on and where he was. He eventually calmed down and Elijah started a game of "you ask me a question, I ask you a question."

Their game had been amusing to say the least.

When they had started, Richard was still sour and confused. "I'll ask the first question; what's your name?" Elijah spoke calmly and with measure as he watched Richard's eyes dart from place to place.

"Rich'rd," he took another swig from his beer bottle, "Where am I an' how?"

Elijah chuckled halfheartedly and shook his head. "That's two questions, Richard, but I'll answer them both since you're the guest." Richard narrowed his eyes as he drank from his beer again. "First question," Elijah readjusted and clapped his hands together once, "You are in a mirror in my apartment in New York City. As for the how, I had a witch put your soul into the mirror."

"I thought I was dead."

"You were," Elijah paused, "And your soul became trapped here on Earth since it had unfinished business. I had your soul because without souls, I can't survive longer than a few days. Your's was trapped, but if it were to move on, it was to go to Hell." Richard didn't seem to be taking the information well. Maybe it was a little overwhelming?

"Do y' 'ave any other souls?"

Elijah smirked, "The rules are I ask a question, you answer, then you ask a question and I answer. Lets follow them, shall we?" Richard scowled at Elijah.

"Sure thing, blondie," sarcasm and annoyance dripped from his voice.

Elijah smiled, "So, Richard, what's you favorite color?" Richard seemed puzzled by the question as Elijah stood to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

"Uh, green?"

"You don't seem very sure about that," Elijah sipped his whiskey.

"No 'nes ev'r really asked m'." **(a/n: Doing the read though and I'm realizing it's really hard to understand Richard. If anyone requests translations, I'll put them in.)**

"I'm glad to be the first." Elijah began to put the bottle of whiskey away, periodically sipping the liquid from his glass. "Your turn," Elijah motioned towards Richard with his glass as he sat down in the stool again.

"Do y' 'ave any other souls?"

"Do I have any other souls stored away?" Elijah stated the question again to himself and took another sip from his glass. "Yes, and before you label me as an evil Demon or something, let explain myself." Richard nodded skeptically and sipped his beer. He was starting to think this was some kind of sick form of torture in Hell or something, but he got unlimited beer so it didn't seem too bad. "Like I stated before, I need souls to stay alive, but I only take souls trapped on Earth that are destined for Hell. I keep them out of Hell and I put them to good use."

Richard nodded. This was definitely a Hell of some kind. Maybe it was a badly written story he was stuck in and his character was just used for exposition and filler.

Nah.

"My turn," Elijah stated, "Ideal weekend?"

"Beer."

Elijah laughed softly at the joke even though he knew part of it was true. Richard joined in too.

They continued on with their game for the hours till ten AM when Elijah went to get coffee. They had bonded over the hours and it felt good to have someone who also didn't sleep to talk to.

The bell above the coffee shop's door chimed as Elijah stepped inside. The landlady looked up from her place at the counter along with a group of girls who had taken up residence in one of the booths. They chatted animatedly to each other and not to Elijah's knowledge, stole glances at him.

"Three days," She faked amazement and coaxed a laugh out of Elijah. "Same thing?" She asked as she pulled a cup from a stack. Elijah nodded and she started on his coffee. "Do you always wear the same clothes?" She, like the other two times he had gotten coffee, started up small talk with Elijah.

He looked down at his clothes almost as if he had to check if he was wearing the same clothes. He laughed lightly, "Got me. Are they bad?" He was genuinely concerned on whether his clothes were okay. They seemed important to humans and they gave him confidence too.

"No, no!" She fretted, "No, it's kind of cute that you wear the same thing everyday, and the clothes," She leaned in and looked to her left and right, "Don't tell my husband, but they're hot on you," she smiled as she returned to preparing his coffee.

He squinted at her. "Are you flirting with me? Because if you are, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

She put the lid onto his coffee. "Ha!" she exclaimed, "No way I'd be flirting with you; I love my husband too much. And also, you saying your not interested only further makes me think you and and your 'co-worker' are doing more than just desk work if-ya-know-what-I-mean," she wiggled her eyebrows at him as he exchanged money for coffee.

He deadpanned a stare at her, but she merely laughed maniacally. This human really was more scary than some monsters he'd met.

"Elijah, by the way, we're planning on going out to dinner before we start bar-hopping; it's a formal dinner place," Eli sipped his coffee and nodded, "We've got reservations, but we're all still meeting here at ten if you're still in."

"I've got nothing better to do."

"Perfect!" She pulled her phone from her brown-ish colored apron and turned it on, tapping and sliding before show Elijah a picture of a couple. One looked to be a woman who looked to be the landlady's age. She had tan skin, black hair, and dark eyes with a smile splitting across her face. The other seemed to be a man who was also around her age. He was a brunette with brown eyes and a bit of stubble across his chin. They looked happy together. "These two are Maria and Daniel, or Dan as we call him. **(a/n: When I named the character Dan I didn't realize that Dan Howell also has brown hair and brown eyes. This was not intentional, but it is kind of funny that I accidentally did that.)** They're husband and wife and me and my husband have known them both since college. They're great people and I'm sure you'll like them." Elijah examined the picture for a few more seconds before nodding again. She pulled the phone back and began tapping away again while Elijah drank his coffee. His eyes drifted to the group of five or so girls in a booth seat that had been eyeing him when he came in. Some of them squealed when they saw him looking at them while a few of the others waved to him. He gave a curt nod and wave before turning back to the landlady.

She finally showed him a picture of a young man with short, curly black hair and chestnut skin. Elijah was intrigued by the picture of him. He looked to be on a beach and was distracted by watching a sunset while the picture had been taken. He had a warm smile on his face while the light of the dying sun illuminated his face in just the right places. "This is Isaiah. He's my best friend from high school and he's flying up for Christmas, which is awesome and super exciting." A wide smile was spread across her face as she put the phone away and splayed her hands over the counter. "Those are the three people you haven't met who are going to be there. You know my husband and me and before we leave for dinner I'll make sure everybody knows who everybody is."

Elijah sipped his coffee. "I'm looking forward to it. See you at ten?" She nodded and said a goodbye to him as he walked out of the shop, paying no mind to the group of loud girls.

He arrived back at the apartment with still three-fourths of his coffee left.

"'Ey, I never asked; is y' landlady hot?" Richard called out from the mirror when he heard Elijah enter the apartment. Elijah rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Don't you dare get any ideas," Elijah warned jokingly (though in actuality he was serious), pointing an accusing finger at Richard as he walked back to the drawer to retrieve a pen to add a tally mark to his palm. Four days till Vincent was supposed to come back.

Elijah put the pen away and drank his coffee from his seat on his stool as he talked with Richard. They talked of all the things Elijah had done, what he was doing currently, how weird Skinwalkers and their gatherings were. The conversations were fast and ranged to any topic they could think of, Richard always sipping from his beer bottle. This continued on till nine PM when Elijah had to do the miracle of the day.

He did the miracle and when he returned at around 9:13 PM, Richard, a disembodied soul, had somehow passed out. How he had managed to do it escaped Elijah, but he decided to occupy himself with getting ready for his outing with his landlady, June (he'd gotten her name off the name-tag on her apron), and her husband August (he'd gotten his name the same way he'd gotten June's). He found it cute how both of their names were months of the year.

He searched through his and Vincent's shared closet in the bedroom, hand tracing over the clothes. His hand stilled on a black suit jacket, vest, and slacks he'd acquired years ago. He pulled the out the outfit and examined it closer. He remembered the last time he had worn it: the 1945 annual summit. He liked it then, and decided there couldn't be any harm in pulling out the old duds again.

He dressed himself and once done, checked himself in the mirror. Man, did he miss the '40s. The clothing was amazing. He ran a hand over his front to remove any dust. He had kept on his dark red tie, but now it was paired with a black suit vest with silver buttons and a black suit jacket with buttons that matched the vest along with his suspenders. He looked... Dapper. Sharp. Classy. All those words and more could describe what he looked like in the clothes. He definitely did not regret dragging the old things out again.

He looked into the mirror and thought of what he had done during the holidays in the '40s. By now he would have been out to a bar, maybe he would have already found someone to flirt with. He stood in front of the mirror longer, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to bring someone home. He had found himself not bring people home since he had met Vincent, but if it was the fact that he lived with someone that was bothering him he knew he could just go home with someone else. He couldn't place what it what was bothering him, but he was debating in the mirror whether or not he was going to go home with someone.

He decided against it and raked a hand through his messy bangs before entering the kitchen and checking the time on his phone. 9:55 PM. He didn't know it had taken him that long to get ready. He spent the last five minutes till ten making sure all the lights were out, that Richard knew where he was, that he had his wallet, keys, and phone. Once he knew he did, is was ten. Just like he had planned on it to be.

He walked up the stairs to the sidewalk before he turned again and made his way up the stairs to the coffee shop. The little sign in the window said closed, but Elijah could see that the lights were on and that June and August were speaking happily with someone inside.

The familiar chime of the bell sounded as Elijah entered the shop for the second time that night.

"Elijah! I see you changed it up a bit," She said with a smile.

Her husband placed a hand on her waist, "I almost feel under-dressed," he added with a laughed. Elijah laughed along with the group, but was distracted by the fourth member.

Maria and Dan had seemingly not arrived yet, but Isaiah was there and Elijah could tell he was a medium and a strong one at that. Elijah knew that such a strong medium could definitely tell he was an Angel, but that wasn't what worried him. It was the fact that Elijah should have known of such a young and powerful medium in the borough. He sifted through his memories of the files he remembered reading about new arrivals and vaguely remembered a description of a medium that looked like Isaiah.

Manhattan had become a place known for being dangerous for mediums. Angels and Demons alike are drawn to them and it can get deadly as Elijah had unfortunately found out. He'd been careful to make sure Skinwalkers monitored all known mediums of the borough.

"Well, Elijah, this is Isaiah," June introduced Elijah to Isaiah. He kept his cool facade and shook his hand, though Isaiah seemed a bit off-put by his presence.

"It's nice to meet you," Elijah smiled, looking into the medium's eyes and seeing that he was looking at something behind Elijah. He looked marveled and distracted by it. It took a few seconds, but Elijah finally figured out what he was looking at. The medium was powerful enough that he must see some form of of his wings. He figured it was just a silhouette, though his wings still puffed out in pride. They didn't get to be seen often and the impressed look in the medium's eyes made a small part of him want to impress him more.

"Same here," Isaiah seemed to finally rip his eyes away from Elijah's wings and return to his normal self. Elijah saw June smiling wickedly out of the corner of his eye. He was confused as to what had happened to make her smile so.

Before he could comment, the bell chimed again and a couple entered the shop. Elijah guessed they were Maria and Dan, but waited for June to introduce them as was customary for humans.

June greeted Maria with a large hug and a few squeals. "It's so good to see you!" June held Maria at arms length. Dan and August had greeted each other with a hug and some laughs. The four of them seemed familiar with each other while Isaiah hung back behind Elijah, glancing periodically at his wings.

"June!" Maria shouted when she noticed Elijah standing idly a small way's off, "You didn't tell me the guy who lived in your basement was so handsome!" Isaiah watch Elijah's wings puff out, invisible to the other members of their group. Elijah definitely picked a good vessel.

He pretended to chuckle sheepishly and looked to to the floor, "Uh, thank you?" Everyone laughed.

"Well, Maria," June gained control of the conversation, "It seems you've already figured out who Elijah is," she walked past him and slung an arm over Isaiah's shoulders. A wide smile spread across his face, but his eyes were still distracted. "This weirdo is Isaiah. Isaiah, that weirdo is Maria," she pointed to Maria, "And that is her perfectly normal husband, Dan," she pointed to Dan. The group of six stood in the shop a few minutes longer to make sure introductions had been done correctly before they made their way to dinner.

Since there were so many of them, they opted to walk the few blocks to the restaurant. Elijah walked behind all of them, surveying the streets, noticing Skinwalker patrols, a witch, a small group of Vampires that looked to be going to dinner. They all looked at ease, unworried of anything coming after them for being who they were.

He walked in silence till Isaiah began to walk next to him, the other four people in the group laughing and talking a few steps ahead of them. Elijah glanced at Isaiah out of the corner of his eye before looking forward again, his pace never changing

"It's dangerous for a medium to be in a city with such high Demon and Angel activity," Elijah whispered in a low voice to the medium who now walked next to him.

"I'm not a medium," Isaiah paused, "I made that decision a long time ago," he added softly. The medium saw the Angel's wings shift.

"It's not a choice. You're a medium no matter what you do." Isaiah scoffed and shook his head while they kept walking. "I'm serious," Elijah spared a glance to him, "Mediums are a rarity in this borough, mostly because of the amount of deaths by Angels and Demons. They're going to be drawn to you, especially to a medium as strong as you." Mediums are most known for being bridges from the human world to the spiritual world, delivering messages to and from each side.

"I'm not that strong a medium," Isaiah tried to tell Elijah, "I haven't done anything with it for years."

"How much of my wings can you see?" Isaiah stayed silent, though he did open his mouth and considered speaking. "How much?"

Isaiah shook his head, "You're delusional."

"You and I both know I'm not." They rounded the corner and could see the sign of the restaurant. People dressed in formal clothes mulled around the front, light illuminating them and the street from inside the building.

Isaiah scanned the area before his eyes came to rest on Elijah. Elijah kept walking forward, his eyes straight ahead and his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. "It's... A light, I guess," he began to describe the wings, "behind these huge... things. They look like a silhouette of wings as weird as it sounds." Elijah's wings puffed again in pride because he was right about the medium being able to see a silhouette of his wings.

Elijah turned his head slightly to look Isaiah in the eyes as they neared the restaurant, "You're a very powerful medium, especially for your age. You have a gift." He was more powerful than some of the older mediums in the borough and it fascinated Eli beyond belief. Only 25 and he could most likely make contact with the most powerful Angels and Demons.

They slowed behind the two couples they were to be eating dinner with as they made it to the front of the restaurant. "More like a curse," Isaiah muttered in response to Elijah's complement. They cut the conversation short once they stopped near the front door of the restaurant.

"Here we are," June stated excitedly as her husband opened the door for her, holding it as the group entered. June got their table and they were soon seated and reading the menu.

"Elijah, none of us really know much about you. Where are you from?" Dan asked to start the conversation.

Elijah looked up from his menu, "I'm not really from anywhere because I moved around a lot as a kid since my dad was in the military and when I was old enough I joined too," Elijah paused, "My dad was a deadbeat more or less though and when my brothers and sisters said I didn't belong in the family, he didn't do anything. I left the military shortly after that and started traveling more before I settled down here in New York." Isaiah sent Elijah a puzzled look, confused as to what parts of his story were true, while the rest of the table was sympathetic.

"That's too bad about your family," June said before sipping her water. The conversation continued as June asked where he'd traveled to. Other questions were asked and they all began to know more about each other. They shared laughs together and it brought Elijah back to the times he would stay with a family while hiding from Angels, Demons, or other supernaturals. It wasn't home cooking, but it was the same feeling around the table.

They ordered food and once everyone had ordered the waiter asked if they wanted any wine. August asked Eli about the wines he had tried while traveling and which ones he recommended, but Elijah said he wasn't very good with wines. They had the waiter recommend one. **(a/n: I don't drink wine nor think I can write people choosing wines so there. They have wine now.)**

They stayed at the restaurant till they had finished their food, split the bill between them, and left to start bar hopping. They all had a buzz already going from the wine, excluding Elijah.

"There's a bar a block over that I've been wanting to go to for awhile. What do you guys think?" June asked once they'd excited the restaurant. They agree and June lead the way to the first bar of the night.

It was a trendy little place with frilly new drinks Elijah had never encountered before. He got a whiskey and sat with the others at a large table. The rest of the group, excluding Elijah and Isaiah, got the colorful types of drinks. 'Fun drinks' as regarded to by some.

The two couples poked fun at them slightly for not being adventurous, but it was all in good fun. Elijah hadn't gotten a frilly drink since if he even wanted to feel a slight buzz he'd need a strong drink. A very strong drink. Angels don't get drunk easily.

He figured Isaiah was just trying to pace himself.

They talked more and Elijah started to hear a slur in Maria's voice, not anybody else though. She must have been a lightweight.

"So, Elijah," her words ran together slightly as she stirred he drink, "June tells me you started bring a guy home about a month ago. You two a thing?" Elijah choked on his whiskey, coughing slightly. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Isaiah also seemed surprised, but his face shifted to one of curiosity soon after.

"No, no," Elijah assured, "He's just a co-worker."

"Co-worker my ass; where do you even work?" June butted in, the alcohol in her system working as a social lubricant.

Elijah paused for a few seconds, scrambling for an answer that wouldn't compromise anything. "I'm a Defax worker here in the Lower East Side. He helps with case work and stuff like that." Hopefully that would keep her off him. He and Vincent weren't a thing.All Vincent had done is move in with him and help him around the borough. He regarded Vincent as a friend.

Before either of the women could harass him more, Isaiah changed the subject. "You're a whiskey guy, Eli?" He asked as he sipped his beer.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that, the slightly drunk women distracted once they'd been presented with another subject.

They soon left the bar and Maria asked if Eli had any bars he liked in the area and after some metaphorical (and physical) pushing from the women he lead them to a nearby bar that had been open for decades. He was unsure whether or not he should bring them there seeing as it was run by Skinwalkers and was a hot-spot for supernaturals. He decided if he was there with them they'd be safe.

The bar had a live band and thriving patrons at the bar and other tables. Waitresses carried platters of drinks and food through the throngs of people and bartenders mixed drinks from behind the bar.

"This is a nice place," Dan commented as they entered the bar and snagged a large table in a corner near the bar.

They sat down and a waitress soon came to take their orders when she recognized Elijah. She was a Skinwalker, daughter of the bar owner actually.

"Eli!" she greeted him with a smile, "I haven't seen you here in weeks! I hope you and Vincent are doing well." Elijah nodded and she began to take their orders. The waitress, Emily, already had Eli down for his usual: Bacardi. She left the table with their orders and conversation started up again.

"You know," August began, "It's usually not good when they recognize you at the bar," he joked and the whole table erupted into laughter, including Eli. He had to admit it was funny

Their drinks soon arrived on a platter carried by Emily. "I hope you're taking care of Vincent, some of us at the compound were pretty attached to him," she commented as she placed Eli' s Bacardi down in front of him. A scared look came across his face as she walked away from the table. He knew the girls would have something to say about that.

"'Taking care?' 'The compound?' You two are definitely fucking." June's voice was slurred, and it explained as to why she had begun to swear more loosely.

"No, no, no, no," Elijah repeated, trying desperately to gain control of the situation, but it had already gone into an irreversible nosedive.

"Dude, it's fine with us if you're gay. I mean, Isaiah's gay," Dan said. Dan was slightly drunk. Just enough to say what was on his mind, which was plenty enough to propel the downward spiral faster, though the information about Isaiah could be useful.

"Have you guys ever thought that maybe they're not fucking?" Isaiah defended him, and Eli could see that he was slightly offended by the fact that personal information about him had been thrown around in normal conversation.

"But that would be no fun," Maria whined comically. Eli sighed. Drunk humans were a strange force he still hadn't learned to predict.

"I'm going to go get another drink," Eli stated as he stood with his glass and made his way to the bar.

"Don't get too drunk!" June called after him from the table.

Eli rolled his eyes. "I can hold my liquor," he called to them as he began to weave his way through the people in the bar, "which is more that I can say about other people," he muttered to himself.

He made it to the bar and ordered another Bacardi. While the bartender was filling his glass, Isaiah showed up. The bartender, a Skinwalker, looked to him as he poured the drink.

"You're the medium that the LaGuardia Airport Patrol said flew up from down south," he pointed to Isaiah. Isaiah looked to Eli, hoping that maybe he knew what the bartender was saying, since he didn't understand.

Elijah saw the plea for help, "He's the medium, but he's not familiar with the world of supernaturals. At all. From what he's told me," Elijah glance at Isaiah, "He's not even practicing as a medium."

The bartender's mouth fell open as he topped off Isaiah's drink. "Not practicing; I can smell the power on him and you're telling me he's not even trying?" Elijah nodded. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was impressed. The bartender placed the bottle back on the shelf and directed his attention back to Isaiah, "You could definitely apply for an apprenticeship with the head medium. From what I can tell, you're almost as powerful as her." Isaiah was confused about the 'smelling,' but he generally understood what the bartender was getting and opted to ask Elijah what it was all about later since he seemed well versed in such subjects. At least enough to understand.

"He's here visiting some other humans," Elijah placed a hand on Isaiah shoulder and grabbed his now full glass of Bacardi. "They're here in the bar and I'm sure they're getting into trouble, so if you'll excuse us, we'll be getting back to them." The bartender understood and went to serve some other patrons as Eli and Isaiah left with their drinks.

"What the hell was he talking about?" Isaiah asked from where they stood a little ways off from where the rest of their group sat, growing rowdier and more drunk by the minute.

"Manhattan is a hot spot for supernatural activity: Angels, Demons, Werewolves, Vampires," he nodded his head towards the bartender they had talked to, "Skinwalkers."

Isaiah was lost. "I get the Angels and Demons I get, but the rest of that stuff..."

"They're real. All of it. Except Bigfoot, that's a hoax," Elijah added the last bit with a smile, but it didn't seem to make Isaiah feel better.

"And you're an Angel?" Isaiah eyed Elijah up and down skeptically, his eyes darting to the large shadows of Elijah's wings.

Elijah smirked and nodded, "In a vessel."

Isaiah quirked an eyebrow, "Angel's take vessels?"

"Man," he shook his head with a laugh and took a sip from his drink, "You may be a powerful medium, but you don't know anything about this world."

Isaiah shook his head, "I'm gonna need another drink." He took a step towards the bar only to be stopped by Eli's hand on his shoulder.

"I'd like to have at least one person at this outing who's relatively sober." Isaiah laughed and they soon found a tall table for two from which they could watch June, August, Maria, and Dan.

"So, tell me about 'vessels.'" Isaiah watched Elijah. He looked young to him, but it was his eyes. They looked old like the eyes of a wise man who had seen too much. They grew distant at times, if only slightly, but it was enough for a sharp eye to catch.

Elijah sipped his drink and began to answer the question. "I'm assuming the only Angels you've come into contact with are disembodied?" Isaiah nodded. "As a way of helping better or whatever, I'm not that sure because the only time they lectured us about why was what..." He seemed to be counting in his head, eyes turned to the ceiling, fingers and lips twitching, "must have been a short time after the dawn of man." Isaiah's drink caught in his throat.

"You're that old?" A smirk grew across Eli's face.

"I look good for my age, don't I?" Isaiah smiled.

"That I can't deny," he raised his glass slightly to Eli before taking in another swallow. Eli did the same.

"You're not too bad yourself." They held eye contact for a few seconds, but it felt longer. Eli broke it to look back to the now rowdy drunks they started the night with. Isaiah couldn't deny that Eli's gaze was exciting. "Back to the vessels; Angels take them so they can walk among humans and do..." He paused in thought, "Well, what ever Heaven intended when they started doing it."

Isaiah chuckled, shook his head, and took another drink. "Some Angel you are; not knowing what Heaven's intentions even are."

"I left Heaven a long time ago," Elijah stated lowly before finishing off his drink. Isaiah was intrigued by it though, and wasn't going to let Eli off without explaining.

"You left?" Eli and Isaiah's eyes connected again.

Eli broke their gaze by looking into his empty glass. He cleared his throat and placed the glass on the table before looking back to Isaiah. "Enough about me; where are you from?"

Isaiah knew Eli was avoiding the topic, but decided against pushing the topic as not to seem obnoxious or nosy. "North Carolina," he said as he straightened in his seat.

Eli nodded with a slight face of disbelief. "Really?" He asked with a small chuckle in his voice and a skeptical smile upon his lips.

"No accent, I know." Isaiah was also smiling.

"I'm almost disappointed," Eli commented, jokingly, "I do like a good southern accent."

"Are ya'll sure?" Isaiah drawled in what was probably the worst southern accent any one could pull. The pair erupted into laughter.

"I said good," Elijah stifled out through his laughter. Isaiah just shook his head and took another sip from his drink, peering behind him towards the band as it finished up another song.

"So," Isaiah directed his eyes back to Elijah, "I'm presuming you came from Heaven," Eli nodded in agreement, "What did you do up behind the pearly gates?"

"I think I told the United States government that I'm a 'War and Battle Statistical Analysis Consultant,' but that's just some word mumbo-jumbo. In Heaven, my purpose was simply to show the Generals the best way to win a war."

Isaiah nodded, though he caught a note of sadness in Eli's voice as he spoke of it. "Sounds simple enough."

Elijah nodded, but a short sarcastic laugh left his mouth as he did. "Yeah. They knew I could win them any war, they just didn't like how I did it," Elijah paused and pulled in a breath. "They didn't understand that to win a war you have to lose a few battles. Lose a few soldiers. They weren't big fans of the way I went about things. Some of them understood, just not enough."

"You know," Isaiah began, "you talking about Heaven is a real drag." They laughed together again, Elijah nodding slightly in agreement. "How about you tell me your happiest memory of Heaven."

Elijah quirked a brow. "Happiest memory? Well there was this one time with this dead dog," Elijah began with a small smirk. It earned him a punch on the shoulder from Isaiah.

"Come on, you asshole. I'm waiting!"

"Fine, fine," Elijah said, calming his laughter, "There was this one-in-a-million soldier in one of Garrisons that I loved to mess with. Maybe it was because he was so innocent or because he had so much blind faith, but I've never really figured out why he brought me so much entertainment. He just did." Isaiah watched a nostalgic smile creep its way across Elijah's lips and his eyes grow a little distance. Isaiah thought it was cute how happy he looked while recalling the memory. "Anyways, I'm a higher ranked Angel than him since I work so closely with the Generals or something like that. I never asked too many questions as an Angel. Power-wise, I was probably a low-level soldier, but because of what I did in Heaven I was around a lot of powerful Angels. They were intimidating and had thrown me around more than a few times when I was a younger Angel.

"So, I used my higher status to convince this soldier that he has orders to go down to earth with me for this 'very important business.' I get him down there, he's in a vessel for the first time and he looks like some kind of newborn giraffe," Elijah was holding back laughter **(a/n: holy shit i need another word for laughing. says giggle. I don't think Elijah's going to be doing any giggling(this part))** while Isaiah watched him with a bemused look. "We're standing on this ledge that's probably no more than a foot over the water, the water over the ledge is pretty deep," Elijah added the information about the water over the ledge as a side-note of sorts with a short gesture of his hand, "And I full on shove him into the water."

"You didn't!" Isaiah shrieked, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth turned up as Elijah continued.

"I did! And he's flailing around in the water fully clothed, no idea what to do, and I'm laughing my ass of before I see him slip under. I know he can't drown, but I also know he has no idea what so ever how to even get out of the water, so I jump in fully clothed too. We ended up both completely soaked and sitting on the beach next to each other. He just turns to me, tilts his head, squints his eyes, and asks, 'Was that the important mission?'" Elijah deepened his voice a bit as he mimicked his description.

The two of them howled with laughter at the story. Isaiah could see why it was one of Elijah's happiest. "He still believed you? After all that?" Isaiah question as their laughter calmed down a bit. Elijah nodded. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"I heard about him for the first time in centuries a few years ago. Had something to do with a Hell expedition. He's been popping up here and there, but I haven't found reason to go and see him."

Isaiah nodded, eyes connecting with Elijah's. They both had tears on their edges from laughing.

"Got anymore 'Innocent Angel' stories?"

Eli smirked. "Oh you bet your ass I do."

They spent their time watching the group they'd began the night with and talking about Elijah's pranks and adventures with the 'Innocent Angel' along with more long sessions of eye-contact, but neither of them were complaining. Isaiah was giving him a break from the Holidays. Providing a distraction so he didn't have to remember what Christmas had come to represent for him.

Their conversation continued uninterrupted till the door to the bar opened and the building shifted completely. The music faltered slightly on its beat and some of the conversation died down while others stopped completely.

Three demons had entered the bar.

Isaiah felt Eli's energy shift too, the silhouette of his wings becoming harder and harder to see as Eli stood straighter in his seat to see over the crowd. He bobbed a bit before Isaiah broke the silence between them.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Trying to see if I recognize them..." He trailed off, distraction apparent in his voice.

"Not that," Elijah looked back to Isaiah, "I mean with your wings; I can barely see them."

Elijah settled back in his seat, going to take a sip from his drink before he realized it was empty. His face looked dejected as he set the glass down, but the emotion passed. "Masking the fact that I'm an Angel. They act differently if they know I'm here."

"Because you're an Angel?" Elijah hopped down from the seat, his empty glass in hand.

"And I run Manhattan." Elijah added the fact nonchalantly before changing the conversation back to the Demons. And liquor. "I'm gonna get another drink and see if I can get a better look at the Demons if you want to come. Or you can go sit with June and Co. Either way, you don't get to be alone."

Isaiah hopped down with his half-full drink and opted to follow Elijah, though slightly confused as to why he wasn't allowed to be alone. "Why don't I get to be alone?" he inquired as they weaved in and out of the bar patrons.

"Because," Elijah paused as he skirted around a person, "I'm fairly sure they're here because they sensed you." They reached the bar and Eli placed his glass down, turning to search the crowd for the Demons when the door opened again, two Angels entering. "100 percent sure now," he commented, watching the Angels scan the masses of people before making eye contact with Eli.

Isaiah saw this and looked to Eli, hoping he knew what was the right thing to do. All he did was smile cheekily at the Angels and wave. Very comforting (note the sarcasm).

Elijah leaned back against the bar as the Angels made a bee-line for the pair. Elijah glanced over and saw the Demons doing the same.

"What do we do?" Isaiah leaned over and whispered to Elijah.

"We," he flagged down the bartender as the two groups grew nearer. The bartender filled his drink before retreating back and watching from a few yards away. Elijah grabbed the glass and took a sip. "Say 'hello'." Isaiah was confused. And slightly terrified. Three Demons and two Angels were coming straight at the two of them and Eli was treating it like it was nothing, which when Isaiah thought about it, probably was nothing to him.

The Angels reached them a few seconds before the Demons, and the two groups glared daggers at each other.

"Don't see you guys around here often," Eli commented offhandedly.

"You can stop hiding behind your vessel's soul, Elijah. We know it's you," one of the Angels commented, arms crossed and wings flaring from the silhouette that Isaiah could see.

"Oh, well that's no fun. I should have known you all know what my vessel's soul looks like." Isaiah watched the silhouette behind Eli return. Elijah took another sip of his drink, "Mind if I ask what brings you to the Lower East Side?"

"I think you know why we're here." It was a Demon who spoke this time.

"Let me guess: Live band?" Isaiah stifled a laugh, but the Demons and Angels didn't seem amused.

One of the Angels flicked their wrist and produced an Angel blade from the sleeve, but before a step could be taken, Isaiah felt the room spin and soon found that the group of two unfamiliar Angels, three Demons, Elijah, and Isaiah had been transported outside to some sort of alleyway. Isaiah felt and saw Eli's... Essence falter. It was strange to see the light behind he silhouette flicker so violently.

Elijah stood with the Angel-blade to the Angel who had produced its chest and his hand wrapped tightly around the Angel's neck.

"I'd advise against pulling weapons against me," he commented, the childish personality he had within the bar falling away immediately. The Angel's eyes were wide as Elijah held him in place. His accomplice made a move to step towards the pair, but Elijah turned quickly and seemingly pulled a box of matches out of the air, lit one, and threw it down to the ground causing a ring of fire to erupt around the Angel.

A rug with strange symbols on a pentagram appeared beneath the Demons, and Isaiah watch as they made no further movements towards escape. He also saw how each time one of these items appeared, the light behind Eli's wings faltered, the light even started staying dimmer.

Elijah returned to how he had been holding the Angel, hand on throat and blade to chest. "Did you all know," Elijah spoke so that all of the people, well, Angels, Demons, and one human could hear, "That going after mediums is against regulations?" The Angel in Elijah's hold looked to the ground. "Pulling a weapon while un-threatened is against regulations. You're also out of your own territories without proper documentation since it all has to go through me first." Elijah released his hold on the Angel's neck and readjusted his hold on the angel blade as he stepped back.

A bucket of water appeared in his hand and used the water to douse the fire. "Now, I want you both to scurry back to Heaven and tell them what you've done and that you may have even earned yourself a territory deduction. If you want to know how much, show up to the summit." The Angels disappeared, Isaiah watching their wings flap once before their whole being was gone.

"You three are going to do the same. I want you all to go directly to Crowley and tell him what you've done and that you'll have a chance to argue for the territory you might lose at the summit." Eli used his foot to smudge away some of the pentagram, and as soon as it was broken, the Demons were gone.

The world spun around Isaiah as the two of them were transported back to the place at the bar they had been before the Angel pulled the blade. Eli picked up his glass and took a sip.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Business. You remembered what I said about running Manhattan?" Isaiah nodded. "That was me making sure the Demons and Angels know their place."

"Well," Isaiah finished his drink off, "That was wild from start to finish."

"Sure was," Elijah agreed and downed his drink. "You want to go send those lightweights home in a cab?"

"Oh that's going to be harder than scaring off three Demons and two Angels," Isaiah commented as he placed his drink down on the bar and followed Eli towards where they had left the two couples.

Isaiah was partially right; it was way more tedious and draining than what they had done in the alley way. **  
**

They had begun by first finishing off their own drinks before returning to the table that the two now completely wasted couples sat, drunkenly singing along with the song the band was playing.

Elijah flagged down a waitress so that he could pay of their drinks while Isaiah tried to get the drunks' attention. Elijah finished paying, but it did cause him to have to hand over a good chunk of money. It wasn't something he was particularly content with.

Elijah turned back to where Isaiah was trying to round up the four. Dan and August were hanging off his shoulders and looked like they were about to pass out while the girls were hanging off each other, giggling and stumbling as they went.

"Little help here?" Isaiah called to Eli as he shifted his grip on the two men who were at least half a foot taller than Isaiah. Elijah chuckled at the sight.

"I dunno, you look like you've got it," Elijah said as he walked closer and transferred the two men to his shoulders without a problem it seemed, though Isaiah saw his wings flap behind him slightly so he could keep his balance.

"Asshole," Isaiah mutter lightheartedly as he went to the girls who immediately attached themselves to his shoulder, still giggling drunkenly.

"Is that the only insult you know?" Elijah challenged as they began to maneuver their way out of the bar.

"You know you are one." Elijah let his mouth fall open comically as he feigned a hurt look in Isaiah's direction.

They eventually did get them out of the bar. It didn't require as much teleportation and knives as they needed with the Angels and Demons, but Elijah and Isaiah probably used a lot more stern looks and threats on them. Eli tipped the cabby (a Skinwalker he knew) generously because he knew the four drunks in their twenties were going to be a handful. When it was all said and done, Elijah and Isaiah were left alone in front of bar.

"So..." Eli began. He almost sounded awkward. Almost. "Where are you staying?" Eli asked with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Holiday Inn a few blocks from the coffee shop."

"I'll walk you there."

"You know, I can't tell if your flirting with me or are just concerned about my safety." Isaiah began walking down the sidewalk, not waiting for Eli to even start walking.

"Would you be offended if I say both?" Eli jogged to catch up, soon walking side by side with the medium.

"Not at all." Isaiah looked at Elijah out of the corner of his eye, the lights of New York City illuminating his face in just the right way. He was undeniably handsome, at least to Isaiah.

Elijah ended up walking Isaiah all the way to his room, and when Eli was meant to turn around and head to his own home, they stayed frozen in the hallway looking at each other. They'd had long looks like it all night long, some of them purposeful, but others? Elijah knew he what he supposed to do. That he was supposed to just walk. That's what he had said when he was mulling over whether or not he would even go home with someone after the night out was over, but there was a distraction right in front of him. A way to keep his mind off missing Vincent and being just generally sad during the emotional time that was December. Elijah stepped closer and slowly let the palm of his hand make its way to Isaiah cheek. His eyes darted down to Isaiah's lips for a split second before returning to his eyes.

Isaiah closed the distance between them.

Eli's eyes closed tightly as he pressed his lips to Isaiah's, but he found his mind wandering to Vincent. He pushed the thoughts away. They were just friends. Colleagues. Eli chocked it up to his mind thinking of strange things at strange times. He deserved a treat, something to keep him busy before tomorrow's Skinwalker Christmas Eve party and Isaiah seemed more that willing to help him keep busy.


End file.
